Hidden Destiny
by ChibiWolf86
Summary: Destiny moves in such mysterious ways. When a female soldier in disguise is torn from her brother, she is forced into the care of Achilles Davenport and the protection of soon to be Assassin Ratonhnhaké:ton. And together, they will learn how rebuild what has torn down and mend what has been broken despite the chance of a tragic ending. ConnorXOC (No Yaoi)
1. Ian: Turning Point

IAN 1769: TURNING POINT

* * *

"_Acceptance of what has happened is the first step to overcoming the consequences of any misfortune."_

_~William James_

* * *

It was about dawn when Dylan Spear decided to ambush me while I made a futile attempt to start a fire. With a quick grasp of my shoulder, Dylan caused me to drop the sticks to the ground. Please with me gasping for air and clutching my chest, Dylan circled around me and gave a dry chortle with a bottle of ale in his hand. The man was a menace among us cadets, like our commander, he enjoyed toying with us until we decide to take a hit. Most of the cadets don't realize their mistake until they are mostly black and blue. "Oh, poor lad," false pity dripped from his tongue, "Would ya' like some 'elp?" Dylan turned to the fire pit and poured half of the pint, soaking the wood. Dylan turned back to me from the pit with a sly smirk before walking to the other side of the camp, leaving me to scowl.

"You handled that well." Charles stated as I turned to his voice. He was leaning against one of the pine trees with his uniform in disarray, and his red coat was hanging on one of the branches. The lit cigar in his mouth bounced with every word, "I thought that you would at least club em' this time."

"I've learned my lesson by watching him beat all of the other cadets." I folded my arms.

Charles plucked the cigar from his lips and strode over to the pit. He heaved a heavy sigh before tossing it into the bark and branches. Eventually, the wood began to heat and crack as the flames began to spread. Even in the warm season, the mornings are to cold and the days are too hot. It seems that there in never a happy medium in the colonies. "You owe me a cig' now," Charles sat on the log, "Other than that and the fire now, it's the only source of warmth in this forsaken camp."

"And yet here you are waltzing around without a jacket." I rolled my eyes.

My friend rubbed his hand over his short brown hair and held his palms to the flames, "Don't really need it now."

I tucked my hands into my pockets to find some warmth as well, "Anything come up yet?"

"No, Captain Davenport is taking his sweet time. We aren't allowed to leave our position until we are given orders to do so."

"Leaving us to cater to his spoiled daughter." I say under my breath.

A month ago, our captain gave us orders directly from General Davenport, which was to guard a checkpoint for the troops who were passing through. Most of them were just traveling, so I wonder why there was even need for us to stay out here. See, most of the cadets don't even get to do half of the things the middle ranked soldiers get to do. Which made it even harder to even try to like our new jobs.

"Don't think about it too much." Charles tucked in his shirt. Charles never enjoyed wearing his uniform despite it being part of the job. The days he would allow himself to waltz around camp without his coat and hat were when the captains decided to leave into to town. Something Charles has been doing the past couple days as well.

"Are you heading into Boston again?" I buried my hands deeper into my pockets.

"There's an inn that's going to be quartering a squad coming in from Georgia. I'm going to be evaluating it before the troops arrive." Charles placed his hat on his head and reached for one of the muskets leaning against a tree. He turned to me and held the musket in both hands. "Would you like to come along this time?"

I stood up so I was somewhat close to eye level, "You want me to come along?"

"I might just need some help this time around. Weren't you just whining about being stuck out here?" Charles gave a smirk.

Stubbornly, I folded my arms not only because it was cold, but also because I knew something was amiss. "You never take me to Boston. You always say it's too dangerous."

"I'm not now, so what's stopping you?" Charles pointed out.

He was right. I've been moaning and groaning about being hidden away from civilization for so long. But Charles never took me into Boston on the account for several reasons. One: The soldiers in cities around the colonies have to deal with much more than what we have to go through in the woods. Two: I had just joined the military eight months ago. Many of the new recruits don't even get close to the trouble cities, as we are not used to dealing with the dark side of the city. Three: Charles was a

worrywart. We had been friends since the day Charles began to pick up a rifle. With my courtesan mother chasing after whatever man she had a soft heart for in Scotland, and with my aunt and uncle dead, the Charles family was my only salvation from the cruel world. From there on, Charles and his family protected me for reasons that were never disclosed. All I knew was that they were supposedly my godparents.

"Let's go then." I followed Charles to the horses. Because by the time I was done going down the list, I had already picked up a rifle and had a somewhat pleased smile on my face.

* * *

Boston was the definition of constancy. The streets were still filled with bustling merchants and town criers. Our red coats made us stick out amongst the browns and earthy colors that made up this city. But regardless I was amongst people other than my fellow soldiers. Most of them were pig headed and thought they had the power over many because they held a rifle in their hands. This trait is what made us feared, or at least hated, by the colonists. The only difference between me and Charles, and those who beat on innocents for just looking at them wrong, is that we do not fight for power.

The inn was very run down and smelt of mold and mildew. But the current users didn't seem to mind though, either because they were disguised or being entertained by a paid courtesan. Another redcoat was approaching us, wobbling and swinging his pint, but Charles paid him no mind as we past him. Instead, as his head followed us, he fell of balance and landed on his bum causing several other occupants to laugh. This caught the attention of one of the owners, an elderly woman, in apron, long dress, and bonnet. "In need of a room dearies?" She held out her hand, which caught a pouch full of British pounds. She then gestured to the stairs, "Up stairs to your left; third door."

With money in her hand, the one didn't give a second thought before tending to more men at the bar. "Come on." Charles gestured me to follow as we made out way up the rickety, old stairs. The only difference between downstairs and the two floors above was that the two were quieter than the other. Majority on the second floor were mostly men with courtesans, one _couple _was leaning against our door, but Charles just gave them a push to clear the way. The woman only gasped while the drunk merely cursed with slurred words. When we closed the door behind us, I heard the drunk kick the door and then a loud thump. I merely rolled my eyes and began to make myself at home.

The room was small, just enough for two people. There were two twin beds with a pillow and blanket on each, a table with chairs, desk, and two windows. The floors were covered in dust and the covers smelt of alcohol. "And the crown wants to house soldiers here because…?" I removed the dirty blanket.

"The size," Charles answered simply, "Once the place is cleared out, the troops will move in."

"Another couple to be forced on the streets."

"Ian-," Charles gave me the same look he gave me since I enlisted. I was still young, thirteen to be exact. For the common military cadet, its not too young, but to Charles it was. He believes that I should be spending this time of my life doing what teenagers do best. Charles said most get engaged at this age, but I was never the type to indulge myself in the thoughts of courting. I gave it up when I choose to wear this uniform. Unlike me, Charles is not a cadet and has more freedom than the rest of us.

"You know what you signed up for Ian. Now help me with this." Charles moved to his bed and began to remove the dirty blankets. He motioned to one of the windows with our blankets in arms. I walked over to a window and pushed up on the frame, it opened, but with a burst of dirt and dust. Charles then laid the blankets over the edge, and began to shake them of anything the last occupants left behind. Once the covers were partially clean, Charles handed me my blanket for the night and I went back to my own bed to clean off my pillow as well.

When everything seemed cleaned of well enough, I began to remove my jacket and hat. I looked over to Charles, to see if he was doing the same. But he was still in uniform with rifle in hand. "You going some where?"

"Yes, I have errands to run in the city. Do me a favor and stay out of trouble will ya'." Charles wasn't asking me to stay out of trouble. He was _telling_ me to stay out of trouble.

"Yeah, yeah," I groaned before falling back on bed. Charles smirked as he exited the room, leavening me to my own thoughts.

Charles always treated me like a child, even when we were just children playing with wooden swords. He would always go easy on me, not because of our seven year difference in age, but because I was all alone in the world. My parents abandoned me when I was an infant and my aunt and uncle, who raised me until I was six, died in an accident. This left me in the hands of our neighbors, the Charles family, who insisted on taking me in. From what I can remember, they were pretty distant from the rest of the community, so I don't have the slightest idea why they took me in.

The Nelson family was always there for me when I needed them and they raised me like they would have risen their won. Charles' has several siblings: Two younger brothers and an older sister. All of which, live in entirely different states. This makes me his only sibling within a hundred-mile radius. And since I'm still so young, he's always been on top of keeping me out of trouble. But on the other hand, I've always felt that _I _should be looking out for him.

And that's when I noticed a letter Charles' had left behind on his pillow.

* * *

Hours have passed, and now I find myself sitting by the windowsill with the envelope in my hands. The only thing written on the envelope was the name Davenport, most likely a surname. Charles had also been missing all day, since the sun had just begun to turn the city into a gentle gold. He was never one to forget something; in fact, he was always on top of all his duties. I respect Charles greatly, but my curiosity is too great.

Just as I was about to close the curtains; I saw him. Charles was making his way through the crowd with his red coat making him stand out like a sore thumb. But instead of the calm and collected Charles I've known all me life, he seemed in distress. He was trying to push through the thick crowd in almost a panic. I just watched as he finally made his way though the crowd, I decided to meet up with him down stairs. I quickly grabbed my rifle and rucksack before running down the staircase. Most of the people were still drunk as can be, so I wasn't worried about arousing any suspicion.

I practically rammed into Charles when I opened the door. He was panting heavily with beads of sweat running down his brow. He didn't waste anytime, as he took a hold of my hand and began to pull me into an ally. The shadow's hid us very well, but it didn't do enough for Charles. He never let go of my hand, and we would stop and hide and run again, then run again. Whatever he was avoiding, was really that dangerous enough to make him hide from a fight. We passed through several allies and courtyards, always avoiding the main roads. I wanted to stop, to jerk my hand away, and question him of what it is were doing, but I couldn't bring myself to ask.

We eventually made it to the slums of Boston when the sun had finally set, somewhere that seemed safe at the moment. Our red coats made the homeless duck and hide in their run-down shacks, and the air was putrid. Charles eventually led me to an unoccupied shack and hung molded curtain in opening be ducked under. It was very secluded from the rest of the slums, and Charles made sure that none of the other residents had seen us. "Charles what in blazes is going on?" I questioned. At first I thought he didn't here me. He was to bust rummaging through his own rucksack.

"Take off your jacket and give me your hat!" He ordered.

"What?!"

"Just do it!" Charles barked.

I flinched at his raised voice before complying. With my hat and coat gone, leaving me in just a white shirt, pants, and boots; he tossed a green bundle into my lap. When I unraveled it, it was a mossy-greed vest-like-coat and went to the bottom of my hips with gold buttons. Again, I wanted to question him, but I didn't see the point in trying to berate him at this point. I silently slipped on the vest and waited for Charles to say anything. He was busy stuffing my jacket and hat into his bag in a punching like motion. When he was finished he held the open bag to me, "The wig." I had almost forgot at this point, I've been wearing it for so long that I forgot I was wearing it.

Digging my fingers under the wig, I lifted it off my head, allowing my shoulder length hair to fall. I dropped the wig inside his bag. He tied the bag shut and slung it over his shoulder. "Listen after I leave, wait for a half and hour before going back into the city." Charles instructed before handing me a pouch of coins. Was this what he was in trouble for? "Then get a horse and ride. Ride far away!"

"But Charles!"

Charles quickly grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me, "Isla do you understand!"

I stared into him with wide eyes. His eyes weren't angered or frustrated like I thought they would be. They were, scared? Perhaps even more scared than I was. My silence must have been good enough answer for him, as he released me from his grip and made his way to the curtain. I wanted to reach out and stop him, beg him to take me with him or at least explain why he was leaving me in such a manner. As he pushed it back he turned to me with sadness plastered on his face and my hand with drew to my side, "Stay safe Isla." Then he was gone.

My only friend, and brother in the world was gone.

* * *

**Yup new story! Sorry I've been MIA for a long time now. But here ya go and I hope you all enjoy!**


	2. Isla: New Allies

ISLA 1769 (THE FOLLOWING MORNING): NEW ALLIES

* * *

"_God sometimes removes a person from your life for your protection. Don't run after them."_

_~Rick Warren_

* * *

Night pasted slowly, more slowly than it ever has. I followed Charles' instructions just as he asked and waited out in the shack. The only things I had on me for protection was my pistol and a knife tucked away in my boot. I decided to leave my rifle back in slums, as it wouldn't do me much good if I got into a fight. Plus a woman carrying around a weapon like that would draw some unneeded attention. And there's the fact that I've never had to resort to violence yet, as I was only subjected to basic combat and nothing more. That made walking through Boston at night harder than ever before. My red coat was enough of a warning to keep people away, but now I see the difference in how one jacket can complete an image.

Though it was late at night, there were still plenty of people bustling about the streets, but not as bad as during the day. However the amount of British troops seems to increase at this time of night. I did my best to try and avoid eye contact whenever I could, in fear that one may find me familiar. I also took to the alleys to avoid any checkpoints as well. Despite the smell and constant following of beggars and orphans, it was a better alternative.

Just after passing through another alley, I found myself in a small courtyard surrounded by several homes with tall grass. I decided to choose this place to take a quick break to only find that I wasn't alone. Another drunk, from what I can tell, approached me from behind and quickly took me by the wrist. "Well, what do me we 'ave here." His words were slurred just like the others and his breath smelt of liquor. Not wanting to deal with this at the moment, I quickly dug my heel into his toe. The man let out a curse, but his grip did not loosen. Instead he swung me around and took hold of my other wrist and held them behind my back. He pushed my wrists higher up my back until I felt one of my shoulders grind against my joint and pop. A scream busted from my throat and he shoved me to the grass.

"That wasn't very nice." He stood over me with his foot raised.

The pain in my shoulder became too much to bear with my heart beating in my ears. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing myself for his foot to come crashing down. However the pain never came, but only a grunt and a loud thud. My eyes began to open when I saw a slender figure above me. He or she crouched down by my side and laid a hand on my shoulder. I could see their face, but I could tell they were trying to communicate with me. My lips parted in an attempt to speak, but the darkness at the corners of my eyes took hold what was left of my vision.

* * *

"Elle est éveillé!" Were the first words I heard as I came to. My shoulder was killing me, but it didn't stop me from sitting up. When I got my wits about me, I finally got a good look around. I was laying one a soft couch in a middle of some entry hall with my arm in a cotton sling. The walls were covered in rosy paint and the floor was covered by floral carpet. The room was actually fairly quiet, as most of the occupants were surrounding me. They were all girls, wearing beautiful dresses with their hair loose around their shoulders. Out of all of them though, one woman, who was taller with longer blonde hair stood over me. Her face was covered in powder and her lips painted red, and her hand rested on my shoulder.

"How are you feeling ma chérie?" The woman bent down so we were at eye level.

"Sore and…confused." I trailed, "Where am I?"

The woman brought her fhand to her lips before bringing her hand back to my shoulder. "Oh, you must not remember! You were attacked last night before one of my girls saved you before that bytarde could go any further. As for where you are, we are inside the Jardin Des Fleurs. You have been asleep all night." And as she says, there was sunlight seeping through the curtains of the brothel.

Ah, something that I am familiar with. The Jardin Des Fleurs is a popular brothel in this part of Boston. I heard about from several soldiers passing through our checkpoint the night before. Of course, since I am a woman, I didn't partake in those conversations. However, I did learn that many of our soldiers would pass through here when they were allowed the time. Then I remembered that man who snapped my shoulder before nearly crushing my rib cage. That figure must have been one of the courtesans who saved me.

"Oh, where are my manners! I am Madame Chantal Durand." Madame Durand stood up and offered me a hand. She easily pulled me to my feet with a welcoming hug before releasing me. "Now do you mind telling me why a young lady like yourself was wondering the streets at such an hour…Umm."

"Isla, Isla Bocelli," I answered and then my mind traveled to what I was doing. Yes I was told to leave Boston, but for what? Hide in a hole until Charles would come get me? There was no need to deny the truth now; I may never see Charles again. If whatever made Charles leave me and run was so frightening, then if I did go after him I would be killed. But that doesn't mean that I don't deserve to know the truth. I can't go after him now, but my only lead now was that letter addressed to this Davenport person, "And I actually need to find someone. Someone by the name of Davenport."

Madame Durand's brows furrowed at me before turning to the few girls that decided to stay. After I woke up majority of the courtesans left to _entertain_ more of their guests. "Well girls, does that name sound familiar?" I've heard around that courtesans were fairly good at reconnaissance, so often they were hired to locate people or seek out bit of information requested by their employers. "Madame!" One of the girls spoke up, "I have heard of that name. It is the name of a manor a couple miles north of here."

Madame Durand turned back to me, "There you have it. May I ask why you are going?"

"Personal reasons I'm afraid," I say as I walked passed them to the door. I guess it was a good thing I slept till dawn. Now the streets were crowded again so it won't be too hard to blend. When I turned back to Madame Durand, she had followed me to the door. I gave a polite bow of the head and thanked her for everything. She looked like she was about to protest against me going back out with an injured arm, but closed her lips. "I guess I can not stop you. Just remember ma chérie, if you find yourself in trouble, do not hesitate to return here," Madame Durand smiled again. I smiled back and thanked her once more before exiting the brothel, and back into the crowded streets of Boston.

The air inside the brothel was thick with perfume, which made it hard to breathe. Even though the air in Boston wasn't the cleanest, it was still bearable. But it appears I'll have to travel into the frontier, so I won't be staying long.

It wasn't too hard to buy a horse and supplies. The stable was conveniently placed on the edge of the city, as well as the general store. Though my injured shoulder hindered most of my movement, it didn't stop me from riding my new horse. He was beautiful black horse with warm brown eyes and white mane with a sort of vanilla tint when the light hit it, which I had named, Onyx. But the best way to describe him was a gentle giant. Despite my small stature and his tall frame, he did everything I asked for with one arm. The man sold him to for a steal of a price despite Onyx being worth much more. It turns out Charles gave me just enough money for everything I needed. Food, tack, gunpowder, another set of clothes, etc., but in the end I was left with only a few coins. But in the end I don't think I'll need them anytime soon since I was in the middle of nowhere.

Despite there being a path, the forest was thick and made it hard to see far ahead. I had rode for about an hour now and I hadn't run across another human being. Every now and then I would see deer or foxes running across the path ahead of us, but other than that the place was empty. It was hard to believe that someone lived so far away from civilization. However, I can see why someone would enjoy the peace and quiet rather than the bustling city. I never got to enjoy the beauty of nature due to the fact that I had to spend my time in the wilderness with immature men.

About halfway through our trip, I decided to let Onyx graze upon a small patch by the river. With Onyx grazing by the river, I sat at the base of a large oak tree. I dug into my pocket, and pulled out the unopened envelope. My curiosity was growing about what this letter contained, it may explain what happened in Boston, but it may not as well. It was better to meet whoever this Davenport person was, maybe then I can somehow force him or her into explaining all this. But the real question was…what am I going to do after I learn the truth. I guess I could maybe track down Charles, but that may lead to me biting off more than I can chew. Perhaps I could just find out about his whereabouts, but there will always be the temptation to meet with him again.

"Onyx!" I called and whistled to my steed. His headshot up and his ears twitched at my voice before he trotted over to the old oak where I stood. I stroked his muzzle gentle that earned me a happy nicker. Walking to his side I stuck my foot in the stirrup and pulled myself up with my good arm. Riding with only one arm defiantly difficult, but if I'm on the right path, I won't have to bear it any longer than I have to. When safely mounted on Onyx's back, I eased him forward, and back to the path that we once followed.

Only after walking down the path for a half-hour we walked into a canyon like area of the frontier. Small rocky mountains now replaced the trees and the grass became thinner. As we walked through the canyon, Onyx began to stir with nickers and shuffling. I tried to calm him gently and rubbed my first full of reins down his neck. "Easy boy!" I hushed him despite that I knew something was wrong. To our right, one of the few bushes against the cliff began to rustle. My hand flew to my side where I have kept my pistol. As the bush rustled even more, my grip hardened on the handle of my pistol.

"Show yourself!" I ordered and the bush became still before its occupant emerged. His hair was long and brown with feathers sticking out of the back. His copper skin shinned in the sun and he wore native clothing. No doubt he was a Mohawk, since their tribe is in this part of the frontier, so it wasn't too hard to point out. He studied me intently with his bow in hand, his hard gaze making me stop in my tracks. I quickly released my pistol and raised my good arm as a sign of peace. "Forgive me I thought you were the enemy," I explained, "I'm just passing through."

The boy still studied me intently, not knowing what to say. I merely stood there in an awkward silence before he finally spoke, "What are you doing here?"

Knowing that it wasn't good to lie to a native, I decided to tell him the truth. "I'm delivering a letter to manor known by someone named Davenport," I answered, and even took out the letter.

"With a injured arm? On your own?" I raised his eyebrow.

"Er…Well, I guess," I shrugged.

"What is your name?" The Mohawk asked me.

"Isla, and you are?"

"Kanen'tó:kon," he answered slowly, "I know where the manor is. Follow me."

Kanen'tó:kon turned his back to me before walking down the path. At first I thought that I shouldn't follow him at all, but circumstances aside I had no choice. How could I pass up an offer like this when Kanen'tó:kon obviously knows the land better than I do. It is obvious that he didn't trust me, nor did I trust him, but what made him help me. Maybe because I didn't seem like a threat to him, with my arm in its current situation and with him being a native warrior, I wouldn't stand a chance.

He led me through the forest with like it was the back of his hand. I pondered on the thought of being outside his village. Charles had told me many stories of the Native Americans, and their role in the colonies. They are hated by the colonists and vice versa, even though this land belonged to them first and not Europe. So why did Kanen'tó:kon decided to help me, wounded or not?

When we came to the large manor on the hill, I dismounted me horse and tied Onyx to a hitching post. Kanen'tó:kon spared me another glance before walking with me up the steps. The manor itself was amazing. The large two-story house rose upon the hill it stood upon. Many chimneys rose even high with smoke billowing out of two of them. The manor also had it's own stables; full of horses no doubt, and a gorgeous view of the water. Whoever this man was, he was defiantly the type to have pockets full of pounds. Perhaps this is where most of Charles' money came from, as he would have more than the average soldier. I had already pictured who this man was. When we would open the door, a servant would welcome us in and would meet Davenport. He would be a wealthy man dressed in a fancy coat and hat, and new leather boots.

Kanen'tó:kon had knocked on the door before I was given a chance to. While we waited, Kanen'tó:kon spared me another glance, but this time with a small smile. I had to admit, my heart was racing as the door creaked open, and it nearly stopped when I finally saw him. He was an elderly man, wearing and coat and hat like I guess, but not brightly colored and new. He balanced himself on cane and looked up at the two of us. "Ah, you're back," the old man says to Kanen'tó:kon, "He is working in the stables."

Kanen'tó:kon nodded and turned to me, gave me a curt nod before jogging to the stables, leaving me with the old man.

"Now who are you?" The elderly man asked me. Again, my heart raced as he looked at me with serious eyes. His stare was hard and leaned in closer using his cane.

"I'm here to deliver a letter. My names is Isla Bocelli, and I am a close friend of Charles Nelson." I explained before taking out the letter. "Charles left me abruptly with no explanation and left behind this letter." I handed him the letter and opened it up without hesitation. I noticed at the mentioning of Charles' names, the old man's eyes widened slightly. And his eyes moved back and forth as he read through the letter. I began to fiddle with the ends of my shirt before he finally stood aside.

"Come on inside child," he welcomed me inside. He closed the door behind me and led me into the manor's dinning room. Everything was covered with white sheets as well as a coating of thick dust. After the surprise when I met the old man, I shouldn't be surprised at how the man looked on the inside. The man sat himself at the head of the table and I sat diagonally from him. He slipped the letter back into the envelope before speaking again. "My name is Achilles Davenport. Isla was it? You have come a long way."

"Yes, I have," I inhaled deeply, "Forgive me, but I have not intention of beating around the bush Mr. Davenport, but I would like to know about you relationship with Charles. He is very important to me, and I would like to know where he is."

Achilles drummed his fingers on the table, almost as if planning a move for Nine Men's Morris. I chortled to himself for a second, then leaning back into his seat at the table. "Charles is friend of a friend my dear, nothing more."

Achilles was obviously hiding something, something that he thinks isn't on a need to no basis. To bad that's not the case with me.

"What happened to your arm?" The old man gestured to my shoulder.

"Some drunk got the jump on me, but I managed to get away," I explained only part of the truth.

Achilles just let out an "hmm" before rising from his seat. "Come with me."

At first I hesitated, but then if staying was a part of my plan, then I have no choice. I pushed myself out of the chair and followed Achilles up the staircase. From the outside, the manor looks beautiful, but in the inside is like night and day. Every time we took a step, dust would kick up beneath our feet and the floor would creak. When we reached the top of the stairs, we turned back around and walked to the left and down the catwalk. Achilles reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a ring of keys, and after finding the iron key he so desired, he unlocked the door leading me inside.

"It may be coated with dust, but it will do," Achilles looked to me. That was an understatement, it seemed as if a blizzard of dust had come though. There was a couch and table as well as a wardrobe of some sort against the wall. The fireplace was wasn't even full of soot or logs, and the window curtains were still blocking out the good sunlight that this room needed. "Until you gather yourself, you may stay here at the manor."

I turned to Achilles with wide eyes, "Are you sure, I wouldn't want to impose."

Achilles shook his head, "I insist, now dinner will be on the table in a few hours. I will send someone up to help until then." And before I could stop him, Achilles had already shut the door behind him as he left. This left me with this mess of a room.

I immediately went to work on the windows, opening them and pushing back the curtains. With the sunlight filling up the room, it didn't look bad. And though I was at the front of the house, at one of the side windows, I had a beautiful view of the ocean. Now if I just got this room cleaned then it would all be complete.

Just as I finished up opening the last window, another knock on the door caught my attention. Before I was even at the door, it creaked open revealing the person Achilles had sent up. He looked about my age, with tan skin and dark hair. He was defiantly Native American due to his clothes and color. But his face had a different look, that of European decent rather than native. He held in his hand a broom and dust pan and stepped inside. "You must be the girl Kanen'tó:kon mentioned," the boy stated, "Achilles tells me you will be staying."

"For how long I don't know," I admit, "My name is Isla, and you are?"

"Ratonhnhaké:ton," he says simply and I cringed.

"Er…It's nice to meet you. Will you be helping me with cleaning?" I admit that I tried to avoid pronouncing his name. He and Kanen'tó:kon must be from the same village if I had to guess.

"Yes, I can handle the sweeping. Can you hold the dustpan in place for me?" He asked.

I nodded in agreement and held the pan for him as he swept.

The next hour of cleaning was atrocious and filled with awkward contact. It would seem that Ratonhnhaké:ton was just as awkward as I was in this situation. We would meets eyes for a moment and then jerk away or we would clumsily bump into each other. I had no idea how to strike up a conversation with him, nor did I know how to deal with it all. He was very hard to read other than the short glances. Maybe he's trying to figure out why Achilles is letting me stay. Something that I still can't figure out for myself.

"Um…What brings you so far out into the frontier?" Ratonhnhaké:ton asked as I emptied the last batch of dust out the window.

"Family issues I'm afraid," I sighed heavily.

"Are you related to Achilles?" He asked innocently. The thought of it actually made me chuckle to myself.

"No, I'm the unrelated sister of a friend of Achilles. And I'm afraid that an _odd _turn of events have brought me here."

"I see, then I will leave it at that," Ratonhnhaké:ton says and took the dust pan from me.

"Thank you," I nodded, "And what brings you here?"

"An _unfortunate_ turn of events."

Unfortunate. I didn't even want to image what brought a native from his village to live with a Colonist. "Oh, I'm sorry. I won't pry on it then."

Ratonhnhaké:ton just shrugged, "Thank you. Achilles may require help fixing dinner, I will leave you to your room."

As Ratonhnhaké:ton made his way to the door, halfway out he turned back to me with a faint smile. The first smile he has given me yet. "If you need anything, we will be downstairs," he informed me before shutting the door behind him. And for once in a while since Charles left, I felt my lips for a _real _warm smile. Perhaps staying here wouldn't be so bad after all.

* * *

**Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. R&R plz!**


	3. Isla: Set in Motion

ISA 1769 (A MONTH LATER): SET IN MOTION

* * *

"_The more I see, the less I know for sure." ~John Lennon_

* * *

Living out in the country has never been better. Away from city of Boston, life in the frontier is peaceful and heart warming. With my arm out of its sling, I have been able to accompany Ratonhnhaké:ton into the forest. The first week was still very awkward for us, but after that he began to open up. He told me stories of his village and his people, but he never told me of his personal life. Something that I can respect, since both he and Achilles are so secretive.

Achilles was a good man, at times grumpy, but very wise and well mannered. He would often be in his study writing letters or filling out paperwork for shipments. Apparently he and Ratonhnhaké:ton are in the middle of renovation the manor. Something I do not argue with since the place looks like its about to fall apart. From what I could tell he was a teacher for Ratonhnhaké:ton, as they would train every morning, but it wasn't like standard training. The combat training Achilles would put Ratonhnhaké:ton was straining just from watching. I would often be outside hanging laundry while Achilles would drill him, and I would cringe every time Ratonhnhaké:ton fell to the ground.

One morning I awoke much later than my normal schedule. Instead of the sounds of hard work echoing from outside, it was very quiet and peaceful. Throwing off the covers, I slipped on my brown breaches and boots as well as my cream blouse that hanged off my shoulders with baggy sleeves, but ruffled and hugged my wrist.

Just as I had predicted, the manor was empty and there was no sign of either Achilles and Ratonhnhaké:ton outside. On the kitchen table was a small sheet of paper covered with Achilles neat handwriting.

_The boy and I are out by the river training, but we won't be gone long. Please start the fireplace before we return._

_Achilles_

Several times I had tried to tag along and watch Achilles train Ratonhnhaké:ton in what he called "Freerunning". I've only seen Ratonhnhaké:ton do it a few times, but I looked like something that could be useful.

I crumpled the letter and tossed it into the waste bin next to the table before walking to Achilles study. Unlike Ratonhnhaké:ton, Achilles was very clean and his study was immaculate in comparison to Ratonhnhaké:ton's room. I would often be given chores around the house, such as tidying up, so that's why I've seen Ratonhnhaké:ton room.

My time here has been bittersweet. Five months ago, I enlisted in the military to fight and be more than just a _women, _and now here I am doing laundry and fixing dinner. In a way, I miss getting up early with Charles and the other cadets, assembling and disassembling our rifles over and over until we had it memorized. Some of the cadets were around my age or a little older, so I fit right in. Even for a thirteen year old, nature decided to take it slow so passing for a boy wasn't to hard.

I'm out here, safe, and somewhere out there, Charles is running from some kind danger. I want to find him, but I don't even know where to start. He defiantly isn't with any of our family members, if he were to go to them that would put them in danger as well. But that still doesn't narrow down where I can find him. I had hoped if I stayed here, I would find some king of clue, but so far I have found nothing. Not even then letter I gave to Achilles.

The study was the only room in the manor that they had renovated before my arrival. The desk was covered in order forms and lists of supplies needed to fix the manor. And a thick layer of dust and dirt did not cover the floors. Just like Achilles instructed, I began to prep the fireplace before I would place new logs of wood. But as I pushed the ashes back, something caught my eye in the corner of the fireplace. There was a bulge under the ashes that bounced back up whenever I pushed on it to flatten it. Not bothered by getting dirty, I dug my hands under the ashes and pulled out a piece of paper. "Couldn't be."

After dusting off all the ashes and dust, I saw the most familiar, yet, messing handwriting I've seen for years. Charles never had the best handwriting, so when you saw it, you knew it was his. Achilles must have tried to burn this letter, but I must have narrowly missed the flames. The ink was smeared and the edges of the paper were burnt, but I could still read most of it.

_Achilles, my friend, _

_They still think I am loyal to their cause, but I fear that they are still growing suspicious of my latest actions. My trips to Boston have not been in vein however; I've been able to dig up some information on their next move. It seems that the relationship between the Colonists and the Crown have been even more unsteady as of late, and Haytham seems to want to use it to their advantage. I have yet to find out how or why they want to do this, but I have a feeling it will be soon._

_But I am in need of a favor as well. My sister, Isla, has been enlisted into the military under strange circumstances that are too complicated to explain at the moment since I am pressed for time. If I were to be exposed and tried, she will surly hang with me as well. So as favor to a good ally and friend, I wish for you to seek her out if she does not find you, and take good care of her. At the moment, she is all that I have._

_C._

I wanted to cry. I wanted to shout out into the frontier. Having my name in this letter caused several emotions to go through my body. Charles knew this was coming and he wanted me to be safe when it happened. Had he told me whatever truth he was hiding; this may have been avoided. Perhaps I could have stayed home out of his way or maybe I could have been fighting along side him instead of standing here.

Though I was overwhelmed with the contents of this letter, I failed to noticed Achilles and Ratonhnhaké:ton make their way into the study. I gasped at Achilles clearing his throat and jerked around to meet his gaze. Ratonhnhaké:ton didn't seem to under stand the meaning behind the paper in my hands, but Achilles did. He looked to the paper and then my eyes before shaking his head slowly. He turned Ratonhnhaké:ton and said, "Ready some tea." Ratonhnhaké:ton's lips parted as he was about to protest, but Achilles gave him a shove with his cane. "Go on!" He ordered before Ratonhnhaké:ton exited the room. Achilles finally turned back to me and sat on one of the chairs in front of the desk. He didn't even ask me, for I had already made my way around the desk and took the other seat.

* * *

Our tea remained untouched as Achilles went from one tale to another. Tales of Altair Ibn-La'Ahad and the making of the Assassin and of the Templars, their sworn enemies, of Ezio Auditore da Firenze and the rebirth of the Assassin Order and his fight against the Borgia, and his encounter with the _spirit _Minerva. A spirit very similar to the one Ratonhnhaké:ton had come into contact with five months ago that beckoned him to seek out Achilles. It all would seem like a fools tale, something you'd tell someone who was annoying to leave. But if the contents of the letter and if Achilles tales are true, then I'm not the annoying girl, I'm the stupid one.

"But I still don't understand where this all ties in now?" I asked Achilles before taking a sip of my tea, which was now cold. Achilles stood from his seat, using his cane to push himself up, and began to walk out of the room with me in tow.

As we walked he explained, "Charles comes from a line of Templars, but remains loyal to the Assassins. He was investigating Templar influence within the camp you two were staying in."

"Let me guess Matthew Davenport and Eleanor Mallow?"

"Yes, how did you know this?" Achilles turned to me at the end of the hallway.

I shrugged, "Lucky guess."

Achilles chuckled a bit before putting the hook of his cane on one of the candleholders on the wall. Surprisingly it gave way with a tug and part of the wall was pressed in. Of all the times I had dusted this area and walked passed it, all along there was a secret entrance down here. Hesitantly, I followed Achilles down the rickety staircase into the basement. The room was dimly lit with a few candles, there was a circle carved into the ground with a mannequin in the middle holding a large coat with a tail and leather straps. "Come now," Achilles caught my attention and I followed him to the other side of the room. On the wall here several painting with names and other information painted into the wall as well. One name caught my attention, Haytham Kenway, the same name that Charles mentioned in his letter.

"A year after the arrival of Haytham Kenway, the Brotherhood faltered greatly and now our numbers dwindle. Now the Templars greatly out number us, however they have grown very cocky as of late," Achilles explained, "The boy plans to go after each, and every main head of the Templars to loosen the grip they hold on the Colonies."

"Ratonhnhaké:ton plans to take them all by himself?" I exclaimed and Achilles sighed.

"Unless there are more recruits or more Assassins come out of hiding, then I'm afraid so. During the times of Ezio Auditore, the Assassin were once allied with the courtesans, thieves, and mercenaries. However we are not so lucky this time around."

My mind instantly went to the courtesans back in Boston who saved my life. Perhaps if I returned to Boston, I could help mend that bond. However the thieves and mercenaries are a different story.

"But it doesn't have to be that way," Achilles stated.

"What do you mean?" I inquired.

"I'm giving you the option to undergo training as well. If you are up to it," Achilles stated simply.

"Just like that?" I questioned with wide eyes.

"Do you want to?" Achilles cocked a brow.

"Of course I want to help, but-," I began to protest.

"Then!" Achilles interrupted me, "We will begin training at dawn. Charles left you to me, and for your own protection, you must learn how to protect yourself. The fact that you know about the Order is enough to put you in harms way, so there are going to be not buts at dawn."

Achilles didn't even spare me another glance before walking back up the staircase. After a few minutes of standing in pure shock, I finally decided to walk back upstairs. When I reached the top Ratonhnhaké:ton was waiting for me at the doorframe. I merely looked into his eyes, and read my expression like a book.

"Let's go for a walk," Ratonhnhaké:ton says to me and he puts a hand on my shoulder.

* * *

I had no idea that "Let's go for a walk" would lead to me being up in tree, attempting to follow Ratonhnhaké:ton to the top. Ratonhnhaké:ton insisted that I should get a head start on freerunning, and that I should explain everything as we were climbing. I told him everything by the time I had reached the top of the tree. How Ratonhnhaké:ton did this on a daily basis was a mystery. In fact, he looked more comfortable up here than he did on the ground. Whenever he jumped from branch to branch, it was fluid and so steady that the leaves didn't even fall when he jumped. I cautiously held onto the branches closer to the trunk as Ratonhnhaké:ton made his way out into the outer branches. I trembled as I looked to down at the ground below. It never looked so far before I averted my eyes.

"So are you really going to become an Assassin?" I asked him.

Ratonhnhaké:ton looked over his shoulder, "I should be asking you that question!"

"Well I asked you first!" I laughed that was shaken by my trembling. "Achilles that you encountered a spirit, and that she told you to come here for training."

"I do it not for the spirit, but to protect my people," Ratonhnhaké:ton corrected me, "Now you."

"Er, I don't agree with what the Templars have done and I want to help Charles get home safety. But I cannot do that in my current state, so I must become stronger," I explained, "Everyone deserves freedom."

Ratonhnhaké:ton nodded his head slowly in agreement. Then he looked me up and down before chuckling, "The view is great through the branches, come over here."

I chuckled nervously, "Uh, no."

Ratonhnhaké:ton reached out his hand to me and gestured for me to take. I shook my head and clung closer to the trunk. He reached farther to me and said, "I won't let you fall Isla. Trust me."

He was being honest, as honest as he's ever been. His eyes were bright with excitement to show me the world beyond the branches. A world I wanted to see as well. I slowly took his hand and began to walk out with my other hand still on the trunk. "Let go," he tells me and I comply. I feel like an egg trying to balance on it point as Ratonhnhaké:ton guides me to his branch. He quickly grabs my shoulder and allows me gain my balance back before pushing back the branches.

The sunlight broke through and I raised my hand above my eyes. I had never seen the frontier from this point of view before. It was far better than the city skylight and more majestic. The mountains, the trees, and the natural beauty made me feel light on the inside. Though I only found out about the Templars and Assassin only hours ago, I feel the urge to protect this land and its people. To protect those with their humanity and rights taken by a greedy hands. I no long require a wig and a false name to fight; I will fight this war as I am.

I am Isla Caoilainn Bocelli.

And I WILL become an Assassin.

* * *

**ALRIGHT CHAPTER 3! R&R PLZ!**


	4. Isla: Trip to Boston

ISLA 1769 (ONE MONTH LATER): TRIP TO BOSTON

* * *

"_Practice is the hardest part of learning, and training is the essence of transformation." _

_~ Ann Voskamp_

* * *

Just after two weeks of training I felt like a different girl.

First he taught me how to run. There was no possible way for me told hold my own in a fight after only a few weeks of training. I just didn't have the strength or size for it. Although he did explain that my lightweight and small size could be used to my advantage. Unlike Ratonhnhaké:ton, I was lighter which meant that I can travel on smaller and thinner branches than him in the forest. At the stables he taught me how to run up walls to catch ledges. Achilles tells me that there are types of equipment that the Brotherhood uses make climbing easier, but things like those are expensive to build and are currently only used by branches of the Order where assassins are still in control.

Ratonhnhaké:ton is always taking me out on hunts with now. He tutors me on how to climb in the forest, how to over my nervousness of heights. He tells me that the more I do, the more confident I will become. Towards the end of our training exercises, Achilles and Ratonhnhaké:ton do one on one training with more advanced techniques. I watch him run across the trees and jump from great heights and land safely in a bail of hay or mound of leaves. They both tell me I'm progressing at a good rate, since Ratonhnhaké:ton was already well trained before he became an apprentice. Achilles tells me if my training goes well, I will eventually get to this point, which is pretty hard to believe.

It was a cold, snowing day when Achilles readied the carriage out front. Both Ratonhnhaké:ton and I ran out to meet with the old man, who as already sitting on the front with reins in his hands.

"Good morning," Achilles greeted us.

"To you as well," Ratonhnhaké:ton responded.

"Good morning Achilles! Where are you headed?" I asked, buttoning up my brown cloak.

"Boston. It's about time that we do something about the house. Damn thing is falling apart. Now hop in," Achilles motioned to the carriage door.

Both Ratonhnhaké:ton and I climbed into the carriage and quickly closed the door behind us to block out the cold. Achilles ordered the horses forward, and we were on our way to Boston.

* * *

"Why are you fidgeting so much?" Ratonhnhaké:ton asked me.

"Hmm? Oh, I just haven't been into Boston for a long time is all," I lied. The last time I was in Boston was when Charles left me in the slums. I don't know if Achilles had told Ratonhnhaké:ton about Charles and why or how I ended up at the manor. Though as close as I was to Ratonhnhaké:ton now, I'm still very hesitant to talk about. To remember the shock and pain of loosing my brother, as it was hard enough to tell Achilles. I looked out at the passing buildings and people as our carriage was driven though the streets. Two months out of the city didn't make me miss, but made me loath it even more.

Ratonhnhaké:ton and hopped out of the carriage when it pulled to a stop. I laughed inwardly as Achilles had to scold Ratonhnhaké:ton for staring at the passing people. He had told me on the way here that he has never heard of Boston. In fact when I asked him he answered: "Who is Boston?" Of course I laughed at this believing it was a joke.

"This place is incredible. The people. The sounds and smells. I could walk these streets for days and know not even half its wonders!" Ratonhnhaké:ton said in awe as we follow Achilles through the streets.

Both Achilles and I chuckle before the old man said back, "I once thought the same. However, I prefer the countryside now. Far to loud and erratic for me."

"But there are so many opportunities here!"Ratonhnhaké:ton said back as we stopped at the corner of one buildings.

"Only for a few I'm afraid," Achilles stated slowly. It's so true that there's no way anyone can deny it.

Out of his coat pocket, Achilles brought out two coin pouches and lists before handing one of each to the both of us. I quickly tucked the pounds inside my pocket, making sure that no one saw the money I as now carrying.

"There are two stores close to here. When you get there give them these lists, and tell them where the carriage is so they can deliver the supplies," Achilles told us.

As we were about to walk off he caught Ratonhnhaké:ton by the shoulder and I halted; turning around.

"Before you go, you're also going need a new name_._Your skin is fair enough that you might pass for one with Spanish or Italian blood. Better to be thought a Spaniard than a Native. And both are better still than I," finished slowly.

"Achilles!" I interject gently.

"It is fine Isla. Leave it be as it is," Achilles told me as he shook his head.

Ratonhnhaké:ton looked from both me and Achilles, "What would you call me?"

"Hmm…" Achilles pondered for a moment. "Connor. Yes that will be your new name. Now off you go."

_Connor _wanted to say something, but Achilles gave him another push with his cane before shuffling off in his own direction. Connor joined me at my side before we walked down the street.

"Well then," I gave him a playful nudge, "Connor it is. I like it!"

Connor gave me a somewhat pleased smile before breaking our eye contact.

I really mean it when I say that I like that name. For one I like that it's easy to pronounce, but it just fits him so well. If I recall correctly, Connor means: "Lover of hounds." All though he will never admit it, Connor sometimes moves like a wolf. Always close to the ground and stealthy, with a bit of a temper.

Just like Achilles instructed, Connor and I went into the two stores to order the supplies. They were both across from each other, so Connor and I were going to meet up after. As I waited for the clerk to return from the back of the store, I looked out the front window and watched the passing people. Just a couple years ago, I was one of them. Oblivious to the war fought in the shadows between the Assassin and Templar Order. The war we fight to maintain their freedom.

Just as the clerk was finishing up, I noticed to British soldiers conversing while walking into a tavern down the street. I immediately recognized them a two solders that often worked with Charles in the city. The two of them were twofaced drunks, but they may know where Charles is or at least heard any rumors. Achilles told me to stay out of any Templar conflict until I was strong enough, but I'm not planning on fighting. I quickly dumbed some coins on the counter next to the list and exited the store.

Before heading into the tavern, I made sure to keep a level head and recalled Achilles' teachings. "Be seen, but unseen. Blend in with the people around you and become anonymous," he would tell me.

The tavern was like any other tavern. It smelt of ale and was full of fiddling music coming from a band in the corner. The room was crowded with people despite it being only morning. But I could not complain however, since it did work to my advantage. No one seemed to notice me at first, so I took advantage of that and made my way to the counter. I leaned in on my arms and fiddle my thumbs, taking on the role of someone waiting for a drink. The two soldiers leaned against the wall only ten feet away from where I sat. Despite the loudness of the tavern, I could still make out their drunken shouts.

"It's good to have a drink Pete!" One soldier slapped Pete on the shoulder.

"Aye, Samuel!" Pete agreed.

The two of them went back and forth about training and the pain of a daughter Commander Davenport left for them to pamper. I even ordered a small meat pie, small bread roll filled with meat rather than the actual pie, since I was just here waiting. At first I thought the two of them were too sober to remember anything other than their names. But then an interesting subject came up.

"Oi! Did they find those traitors yet?" Pete asked before taking another swig from his mug.

"Aye, but only one! But that wanker managed to escape again. When they catch ol' Nelson, he'll be in for it!"

My breath was caught in my chest.

"I heard they got a little info on his little friend though," Samuel informed his drunk friend, "It seems the little breeches was headed off to South Carolina. It was the only bit of information they could get out of Nelson before he got away in Philadelphia."

And that was all I needed to hear. I grabbed my last meat pie off the plate, and headed out the door before the two of them became suspicious.

So the British caught Charles. I knew he had to have gotten into trouble at some point, but I'm glad that he got away in the end. Not only that, but he even fed the British false information to cover my tracks. I'll have to remember to thank him when I meet up with Charles. But Philadelphia was mentioned during their conversation as well. If I were to help Charles in the end, I would have to end up traveling there after my training is finished. But then again who know when that will be.

"Oi! Where you think you're goin'!"

I turned around to see a British soldier exiting the tavern. He wasn't the same soldier that I had been eavesdropping on at the bar. Unlike the others, he wasn't as sober and was small in size. Cadet like the other two no doubt.

"Me?" I folded my arms.

The soldier pushed to tip of his hat up and leaned on his rifle. "What's a lil' lass like you doin' in a pub?" He smirked.

I held up a meat pie, "Eating. Not every one drinks until they can't even see straight."

"Well now, you could have sat with me. How about we head back inside and out of this cold," he offered and licked his lips.

"No," I stated plainly.

"No?" His eyes widened.

"No, as in, no I am interested. No if you'll excuse me!" I turned to walk away, but the lout grabbed my wrist and pulled me to his face. I stand corrected when I smelt the alcohol that coated his breath. My heart began to race as I thought back the night when that drunk dislocated my shoulder in one go. But still, I held my ground and never relieved my opposing up on my arm. I felt a part of me wanting to punch him in the nose, but another part of me was telling me to withhold my frustration. But I wasn't looking forward to behind taken advantage of today.

With his eyes focused on my face, I quickly ran the heel of my boot right into his toe. The soldier cried out in pain, and with his grip loosened I was able to slip from his grasp. With me free to go, I barreled down one of the alleys without even looking behind me. But I didn't need to look over my shoulder to hear the soldiers chasing after me. Guess my resistance didn't go unnoticed. What was I thinking?! Standing up to that Redcoat in the middle of the busy street. A part of me wished that I had just waited for Connor to find me, maybe because it would have been the smarter thing to do.

I found myself recalling everything else Achilles taught me. Once I'm out of their line of sight, quickly blend in or hide. While running down the alleys, I couldn't seem find any place to hide. My lungs began to burn heavily and my knees began to feel like rubber. At this point I began to panic in fear that those damn Regulars may catch me.

After I rounded another shark turn before jerking into another, I found myself finally out of sight. I heard them coming however I was in a dead end. The area was another courtyard surrounded by buildings. But any doors were locked and any windows were to high for me to jump for even with a running start. My breathing began to hasten and fear began to set in, ready to fight even though I don't stand a chance with a knife and pistol. With the Redcoats' shadows going around the corner, I backed up against the fence of a near by building. And faster than I could even comprehend what had happened, a pair of strong hands grabbed me from behind and pulled me over the fence.

I wanted to scream, but one of the hands was over my mouth and the other arm held my arms at my side with my face in the ground. Whoever had his arms around me wanted to hide as well, since he was practically on top of me. Every part of me regretted running away, and I found myself begging that Connor or Charles or even Achilles would somehow find me. But with a man right on top of me, and British soldiers only a few feet away, I was able to suppress a whimper.

My assaulter, or rescuer, and I both halted our breathing. Listening to the soldiers looking around the area. I heard one by the fence, but he didn't even bother to look over the other side. "Guess the little brat got away. Arse!" A soldier cursed before joining the others.

"Can't believe you let her get away!" Another said loudly as they began to leave the courtyard.

The man waited for a few minutes, waiting to make sure that the soldiers were gone. Though he was not to sure they were gone, I wasn't satisfied. At the very moment I felt the man's muscles relax, I took the moment to fight. I kicked my legs hard and desperately tried to push him off, but this man had another hundred pounds of me. I screamed through his hand, but his grasp was strong and my cries were muffled. Whoever he was knew what he was doing, he used his upper body to pin my shoulders to the ground and wrapped his legs around mine to suppress me kicked. With me unable to move at all, he moved his lips to my ear. "I'm a friend!" A French accent whispered into my ear. When that didn't calm me down or stop the struggling and cursed and whispered again. "Nothing is true, everything is permitted," he whispered again and I froze.

It couldn't be another assassin it just couldn't. Achilles told me that the Assassins were wiped out during the French and Indian War. With me in shock from his words, he took it as me relaxing exhaled deeply. "I'll let you go, but you mustn't scream, d'accord (2)?" He said again. I hesitated for a moment before nodding once. The man slowly got up taking his hand and arms away as well as releasing my legs. I sat up, a bit in a daze, and rubbed my shoulders. With my face out of the dirt, I was finally able to get a good look at my savior.

He was a tall pale man with a cut brown beard just beginning to grow out and blue eyes, perhaps in his mid twenties. He was at least six feet tall and wore a dark coat with his hood on under his tricorne hat. He had on white breaches and black knee high boots and had a sword strapped to his side as well as pistols and a dagger. The man gave me a weary smile as he stood over me and offered a hand. "S'il te plaît, pardonnes moi de t'avoir blesser (1). It was not my intention. Are you all right?" The Frenchman asked me. I eyed his hand and looked up into his eyes. His smile widened and he offered his hand further. Hesitantly, I took his hand and he pulled me to my feet.

I nodded, "Yes I'm alright. Sorry for all of that."

"No need to apologize. I saw the whole thing and I couldn't leave you be. My name is William de Saint-Prix," he introduced himself.

"I'm Isla, so how did you know who I was?" I asked him.

"Any Assassin can identify another after being in the order for as long as I have. Now what is a young apprentice doing out on your own against these soldiers. I highly doubt you mentor sent you out here," William assumed and crossed his arms.

"N-no," I stuttered, "I was with a friend doing errand before those Regulars started chasing me. I guess I bit off more than I can chew."

William let out a laugh before patting me on the shoulder, "You apprentices always do!" He offered me his arm, which I found myself taking without even thinking. The both of us walked out of the alleys and back into the streets, "Now let's get you back to your mentor."

* * *

It seems that Achilles thought that I would be able to find my way home on my own. By the time William and I made it to the state house, his carriage was already gone. I wondered if Connor happily went with Achilles or if he stayed behind to look for me.

The streets were filled with rioting people, cursing the British for murder. Town criers were shouting into the cold air about a suspect with in disguise who may have been responsible, no doubt the British will leave no stone unturned looking for him. William kept us both moving, knowing that if we ran into a soldier that saw me, it place us into a very difficult situation. He kept us in thick crowds, hiding us in plain sight. After spending a least an hour with William, there was no doubt he was an Assassin.

After finding out Achilles was nowhere to be found, William took me to the stables where he had left his horse. I insisted that I could get beck to the manor on my own, but he insisted on escorting me home. He respected my weariness to tell him my life story, but he didn't hesitate to tell me his.

As we shared his horse, William told me of France and the French branch of our Order that was thriving. He was born into a wealthy family and was well educated. When he was seventeen, he was sent to America and was trained by the Colonial Assassins. Before the Assassins were wiped out during the French and Indian War, he went home to visit his family and has been there ever since. He set up his home a few miles outside of Boston since most of the rebels disliked him for his wealthy beginnings, but he was well respected within the Brotherhood. Due to his good education, he was able to fashion his own weapons if provided with the right materials and his own unique fighting style. William told me he returned to the Thirteen Colonies only two months ago, and i found myself thinking about if i had ran into him when Charles left me in the slums.

When we arrived at the manor, it was like going back in time for William. He looked at the manor as he helped me off his horse and smiled, "It's been so long."

Apparently we were heard from inside the manor, and the front door swung open with Connor in the doorway with Achilles behind him. The expression of relief was written on both of their faces, more on Connor than the old man. I raced up the stares with William casually walking up after me. Connor placed his hands on my shoulders and looked me over, "You had us worried sick! Where were you- and who is this?!" Connor and Achilles looked over at William who had removed his hood and pressed his hat against his chest.

"It is a pleasure to meat you both. I am William de Saint-Prix, you brother from France," William bowed.

* * *

**I'll try my best to update every Monday or Sunday, but since I finished a bit early, I just went ahead and updated it now. I hope u all enjoyed this chapter! **

**IN THE FUTURE CHAPTERS THERE WILL BE SEVERAL SIDE CHARACTERS. IF YOU HAVE AN IDEA FOR A NAME OF A CHARACTER OR HAVE AN OC THAT YOU MADE UP AND WANT HIM OR HER IN THE STORY, PM OR LEAVE A REVIEW SO I CAN PUT IN THEIR NAME :D**

**(1) S'il te plaît, pardonnes moi de t'avoir blesser – French for "Please forgive me for hurting you!"**

**(2) D'accord - Fench for okay or alight.**


	5. Isla: Teachers and Students

**IN THE FUTURE CHAPTERS THERE WILL BE SEVERAL SIDE CHARACTERS. IF YOU HAVE AN IDEA FOR A NAME OF A CHARACTER OR HAVE AN OC THAT YOU MADE UP AND WANT HIM OR HER IN THE STORY, PM OR LEAVE A REVIEW SO I CAN PUT IN THEIR NAME :D**

* * *

ISLA 1770 (ONE WEEK LATER): TEACHERS AND STUDENTS

* * *

"_They inspire you, they entertain you, and you end up learning a ton even when you don't know it"_

_~ Nicholas Sparks_

* * *

One week has passed since I found out about Charles', my brother's, whereabouts. One week of bone grinding, agonizing training. I want to be out in the field now more than ever. Achilles tells me patience is the key to my training, something that William keeps on telling me as well. With William here every morning training me, I have progressed much faster now that I don't have to share my training time with Connor. I can tell that Connor is close to being inducted into the Brotherhood. I admit that I am jealous of Connor, and at the same time happy. He is one step closer to finding Charles Lee, and becoming strong enough to help his people.

"Bon travail (1) Oıseau!" William shouts to me as I swing to another branch high up in the treetops. "Visualize where you will land and determine how much energy you must put into your swing. Do not use too much energy, but do not use too little."

Once I'm to the end of the line of trees, I quickly climb down and join William at a fallen log where he sat. His hat and hood were gone, and he was enjoying a piece of toast I had prepared for him when he arrived. I pulled off the climbing gloves that he fashion days earlier to help with my climbing. He explained that these gloves were often used by Assassins to hasten free running.

"How are the gloves treating you?" William asks me before he tosses me another piece of toast.

"Great, they really have helped me! I'm sorry for the trouble," I smiled.

William took the gloves and examined the armored plating on the fingers. "It's no trouble. Like I told you before, I have always made my own equipment. I hope to one day get a hold of more materials to make more advanced weapons," William explained, "Come. Let's talk on the way back to the manor."

He stands up from his log and motions me to follow. I happily follow him through the forest as he further explains his plans.

"Can you really make more weapons for us?" I ask him.

William laughs and put an arm around my shoulders, "I may be a nobleman Oıseau (2), but that does not mean I am afraid to get my hands a little dirty."

"Achilles says that when it is time for Connor to be inducted, he will give him the last set of hidden blades that he has," I tell my mentor.

"Do not worry, Oıseau!" William ruffled my hair. "When the time comes for you to be welcomed into the Brotherhood, there will be a set of hidden blades with you name on it."

Having William at the manor has defiantly made life and training far more enjoyable. After only a week of spending all day training with him, I have grown to see him as my own personal mentor and adult figure. Unlike Achilles, William shows more compassion and preaches of our Brotherhood and what he thinks our mission is.

Williams says that we are not Assassins to fight Templars; we are not soldiers. We are Assassins to protect the weak and suffering, and to stand up for those who cannot protect themselves. He always teaches me to treat my enemies with respect and honor. I argue that it is unlikely that my enemies will ever treat me in such a way, but William remains firm. "You do right by your opponents, not by what they deserve. All life has value," William tells me every day.

Before we head into the manor, we shake the snow off our boots. Inside Connor had already started a fire, and we greet both him and Achilles in the dinning room but they were at it again. Both he Achilles and Connor had been arguing nonstop ever since they arrived from Boston.

After the formal introductions a week ago, Connor explained to me what happened that night. Since he couldn't find me, he went to look for Achilles in hopes that I was with him. However I was nowhere to be found, but he did find someone else. His father. Haytham Kenway.

Just like in Charles letter, the Templars were using the Colonist's anger to their advantage. Connor had tried to stop the massacre at the State House, the man he followed was a decoy and none other than Charles Lee made sure their order's plan was seen through. As a result, Connor was pointed out by is own father to the British. He was a wanted man throughout Boston, but with the help of a friend he was able to escape Boston with only a few scratches.

Everyday, Connor reminds Achilles in his haste to hunt down his own father. In the end I've been wondering if Connor can do it. Can Connor really kill his own father despite his terrible deeds? And then, if they do cross paths, will Haytham kill his own son? I try not to think about what may happen if they do. If I was in Connor's shoes, I may not know even then.

"How can you be so calm?! He is still out there and you are here drinking tea!" Connor spat.

And as usual Achilles remained calm and level headed as his apprentice yelled. "I will tell you what I have been telling you for days. If you found him you wouldn't stand a chance, even with those blades."

I look at Connor's wrists to see two hidden blades over his sleeves. Connor waves his hand at Achilles before marching past us and out through the front door. I looked out the window to see Connor free running into the forest and sighed. William gave me an approving smile and nod before opening the door for me. "Thank you William!" I waved to him before I ran off into the woods. I've known Connor well enough to know where he's going to go.

When I go to the end of his tracks, I looked up into an old oak tree with my hands shielding my eyes. Halfway up, I could make out a light brown figure on one of the branches and I smiled. Just as I predicted, Connor was perched up in a tree by the river. I sighed heavily as I began to climb he branches. Connor didn't even look at me when I reached the top, but I did see him quickly stuff something into his pocket. However u just dismissed it as nothing I needed to worry about. He was sitting against the trunk with his arms resting on his knees.

I situated myself on a branch next to him and got comfortable since I realized that we'd be here for a while.

"That old man is like a stubborn old mule!" Connor complained. "Why doesn't he understand?!"

"He _does _understand why you want to fight- he just doesn't want you to get killed," I say calmly and Connor just scoffs. "Achilles is right. Haytham has been a highly skilled Templar for most of his life. If you were to go after him now, as you are, you would be killed," I tell him.

"You all just don't know what I went through!" Connor argues.

"And we will _never _understand your pain, but we do understand your motive and you're being too rash!" I counter.

Connor looks at me for a moment and sighs heavily before leaning back on the tree. I feel bad fighting against him since I understand why he wants to fight so dearly. "I want some time to myself for a little while. Will you be able to make it back to the house?" Connor asks me. I guess I wasn't going to be up here forever.

"Yeah," I nod and I begin to climb down the tree. After a few steps I look back up and Connor and our eyes connect. "If you ever need to talk to someone, you can always come to me," I tell him with a smile.

Connor smiles down at me, "I know. Thank you."

I was still hesitant to leave, but since Connor wanted to be alone then I had to choice.

Getting back to the manor wasn't too hard since I just to follow my own tracks. Back at the manor I saw another man running in the distance. I assumed he was just another colonist lost in the woods looking for directions, but his expression proved otherwise. From what I could tell, he must be some kind of worker in the frontier due to his clothes.

As soon as he caught sight of me, he ran over and leaned on his knees. "Is there something I can-," I began but the man cut me off.

"There's no time, I need your help! He's going to die!" The man blurted.

I immediately looked to the window of the manor and wondered if I should get William, but I guess there's no time. I followed the mystery man through the dense snow and trees. Eventually he brought me to the river. When we reach the river there was no one to be found, perhaps this was some kind of cruel prank. The man's eyes scanned over the river looking for whatever it was he brought me here to see. Eventually we both saw what cause him such distress.

"Down there! He's just passed under the bridge!" The man pointed out.

It was another, most likely his friend, clinging to a log floating down the river. Of course my instincts told me to get the man out but swimming after him would be impossible. My eyes immediately flew to a fallen tree in the distance.

I quickly ran up a fallen log and jumped up the branches of the trees surrounding the river. The man clinging to log was moving faster down the river, so I had to pick up the pace. When I had finally reached the fallen tree, the man on the log and I were side by side. With a large jump I landed on one of the branches and jumped from one to the other fast so I didn't have time to slip. And when the log was right below me, I drove straight in.

The water was cold and it burned and paralyzed my skin. I kept my eyes on my arms to see each of my movements down to my fingers. My fingers encircled the collar on the man's shirt and I began to drag him back to dry ground. He must not know how to swim since he was practically clinging to me. I paddled even harder, trying to keep his and my head above the water as the current dragged us out before I saw the other man waving to us from shore. When we were close, the man who fetched me waded into the water and helped pull us both to shore.

The man that I had rescued began to cough up mouthfuls of water. I however, was freezing my ass of desperately and tied to shake off as much water as I could. The man wearing the hat smacked his friend on the back and helped me back to my feet, "What this knob-end is trying to say is he's forever in your debt, miss."

"Who you callin' a knob-end?" The Scotsman coughed.

The man in the hat smacked his friend again, "You. Because you are one!"

"Are you two lumberjacks?" I shivered.

"Aye, the names Godfrey and this here knob-end is Terry. We've got the camp set up a few rods off of here, as we're cuttin' timber," Godfrey explained, "We're actually plannin' on opening a mill in the area."

Well there's an idea. The clerk in Boston said he lacked the proper tools because lumber was on a bit of a shortage. If theses men moved in here, then it would take care of the lumber that we needed to fix the manor.

"There's a place near the manor where you could set up. We could use the wood," I shivered.

"What a lass!" Godfrey elbowed Terry and then turned back to me, "Ha! I like you already. We'll have a look."

Just as we were about to walk back up the hill the manor, a familiar figure jumped down from one of the branches. William stood up from bracing his fall and crossed his arms, tapping his fingers. He shook his head before shedding his coat and draping on my shoulders. "Isla," William sighed, "What am I going to do with you." I guess I spoke to soon about William saying my real name.

* * *

"You do know that I am extremely angry at you Isla, you should have come to me first," William pointed out as he rubbed my hair dry.

Terry and Godfrey were in Achilles' study discussing the arrangements of moving onto the Homestead. Connor had arrived home while I was out and was with Achilles in the study as well. William and I were in the kitchen trying to get warm. I had changed out of my wet clothes and into something dry, with my feet in a pot of steaming water with a blanket wrapped around me. His cloak and my clothes were handing by the fire, drying from the river water. I was a bit embarrassed that William was treating me like a child, drying me like I couldn't do it myself.

William paused for a moment before continuing to dry my hair, "But I commend you for saving Terry. If you had come to me there would be less of a chance that we would have been able to save him in time. And you did well with your free running, c'est la vie (3) Oıseau."

"Thank- er, Merci…beaucoup (4)," I stuttered over my French and William laughed.

"De rien (5)," William laughed again and removed the towel from my hair.

I brought my hands up to try and smooth out the frizzy rat's nest my hair had turned into. If I had stayed wet any longer I would have gotten sick. William dumped the towel in the basket before checking out clothes to see if they had dried. His must have been finished since he pulled it of the wire and slipped it on, but he left his hood down.

Just as I was finished warming up Connor walked into kitchen and leaned on the doorframe, "Warm yet?"

"Yeah, much better," I nodded. Then I felt a tickle in the back of my nose. I squinted and took a deep breath before sneezing into my arm. William handed me a cloth and I wiped my nose before tossing it into the basket as well.

"Hmm when Achilles and I return, I'll make you a tea that I used to drink when I was sick," Connor tells me as I sniffle.

"That sounds great Connor, thank you. Where are you headed?" I ask.

"To the water. Achilles wants me to meet a friend of his that could help us. Robert Faulkner," Connor said.

"Robert Faulkner? He's an Assassin who was a member of the crew of the Aquila, one of the Order's ships. I had no idea he was still here," William told us.

"The Aquila?" Connor questioned.

"I remember reading a book about it from Achilles. She was nicknamed the Ghost of the North Seas due to her infamous reputation, but didn't she sink?" I look to William.

"Yes in the cove below, but perhaps Achilles wishes to fix her up a bit," William said.

Why would Achilles want to fix up the Aquila? Yes, it would be a good asset, but neither Connor nor I are sailors. I imagined Connor in a captain's uniform at the helm of a ship captaining a huge ship. I didn't realize it at the moment, but was smiling and I accidentally let out a small laugh. Connor was about to ask about what was so funny, but he was stopped when Achilles called for him.

"Connor! Let's get going!" Achilles called from his study.

"Well, I will see you when you get back," Connor waved before walking out the front door.

* * *

1770 (SIX MONTHS LATER)

I finally felt like I was becoming an Assassin. Only two month ago, William began to teach me hand-to-hand combat and how to use a sword. It felt great being able to defend myself in the face of danger and William showed no mercy when it came to punches. The first few weeks of training were just teaching me the basics, but after that we actually started sparring against each other. I ended up with pliantly of bruises but because of that I learned fairly quickly how to avoid them. William would often lie about not holding back though. I could see it when he threw a punch that he could have hit me much harder.

Today that Aquila is finishing up her last bit of repairs and Mister Faulkner invited me, Connor, and William aboard for her first trip in years. By the time we made it to the docs William and Mister Faulkner were already on the ship. "Come aboard and feast your eyes, you two!" Mister Faulkner invited us. As we began to walk up the ramp, with Connor ahead of me, Mister Faulkner put his hands in an effort to stop Connor, "No no no no, not the left foot! Never the left foot! Horrible luck. Step with your right foot first!" Mister Faulkner exclaimed and calmed down as soon as Connor changed to his right foot which I did as well. I was never one to believe in such superstition, especially the one about women being on ships.

On the ship Connor studied the wood work and looked to Mister Faulkner. "She is... solid?" Connor tried to use the right terms. He told me months ago about the respect he must show the Aquila in Mister Faulkner's presence.

"Aye. Weatherly and sleek. She'll fetch 12 knots in a stiff gale, ne'er a ship from here to Singapore can outrun her on her best day. Wha'dya say we take her out and show you what she can do first hand," Mister Faulkner suggested.

"That sounds like an idea! Where are we going?" I asked excitedly.

"To Martha's Vineyard to perches guns and to find officers to command them," Mister Faulkner answered, "Don't worry I'll make sure the of ya' sprout good sea legs! How about the three of ya' go below deck and drop your things."

"Good idea, come along you two," William guided us below deck to out quarters as Mister Faulkner began to bark orders out to the crew.

"Haul in the mainsail! Get up the rigging! Hand over fist! Come on, men! Let's get her out where she needs to be!" Mister Faulkner commanded.

It was a small room separate from the rest of the crew. The room was big enough for the three of us with two cots with a pillow and blankets each with a hammock in the corner. I immediately claimed the hammock for myself and set my bag bellow it before jumping into it with my arms folded behind my head. William chuckled and gave my hammock a push, "Heh, should have claimed it for myself first. Now did you pack everything, clothes, brush, soap?"

"Yes William," I sighed.

"Anyway now that we're _claimed _where we'll be staying, why don't you two head back up to Mister Faulkner? No doubt he wants to go ahead and start teaching you two how to sail," William suggested to us.

As soon as he said sail, I was already out the door with Connor at my side. We both climbed out of the main hatch and caught Mister Faulkner's eyes. He waved to us both and raced up to the helm where he offered the wheel to Connor, who had reached it first. Connor gave me a playful smirk as he looked over the wheel excitedly at the open sea.

Mister Faulkner laughed and patted me on the shoulder, "Don't worry lass, you'll get you turn in a moment!"

I looked out at the horizon and leaned on the railing. Never had I felt so excited to be at sea before since this was my first time on a ship like the Aquila. And I couldn't wait for my turn at sailing her. But by the looks of things, this wasn't going to be any ordinary trip at sea.

* * *

**Here ya go! PLz enjoy and have a nice time reading! :D**

**IN THE FUTURE CHAPTERS THERE WILL BE SEVERAL SIDE CHARACTERS. IF YOU HAVE AN IDEA FOR A NAME OF A CHARACTER OR HAVE AN OC THAT YOU MADE UP AND WANT HIM OR HER IN THE STORY, PM OR LEAVE A REVIEW SO I CAN PUT IN THEIR NAME :D**

**(1) Bon travail! – French for good job.**

**(2) Oıseau – French for bird and William's nickname for Isla.**

**(3) C'est la vie – French for well done.**

**(4) Merci…beaucoup- French for thank you…very much.**

**(5) De rien – French for your welcome.**


	6. Isla: Strong Bonds

**IN THE FUTURE CHAPTERS THERE WILL BE SEVERAL SIDE CHARACTERS. IF YOU HAVE AN IDEA FOR A NAME OF A CHARACTER OR HAVE AN OC THAT YOU MADE UP AND WANT HIM OR HER IN THE STORY, PM OR LEAVE A REVIEW SO I CAN PUT IN THEIR NAME :D**

* * *

ISLA 1770 (ONE WEEK LATER): STONG BONDS

* * *

"_Once you'd resolved to go, there was nothing to it at all." ~ Jeannette Walls_

* * *

I never thought I would start my first morning at Martha's Vineyard with Connor punching me in the eye.

I backed up a few steps, clutching my swelling eye, and brought myself together. Connor came in for a swing with his leg, but I quickly blocked it with my forearm. With his blow blocked, I brought my elbow up and thrust it into one of his eyes. I thought that would be the end for now, but he quickly regained himself, faster than I did, and grabbed hold of my arm before flipping me on my back. Connor and I both halted our fight at the cheering of the sailors and whistling. I smirked at Connor as he offered me a hand since he had left himself right open. I twisted both my legs around his ankle and twirled my body, making him fall to the ground.

The sailors began to cheer again as Connor and I picked ourselves off the ground. Mister Faulkner called out to his men to return to their duties. I let out a laugh as Connor dusted himself off, "All right I want a rematch!" Connor laughed.

I was about to comply, but William called from the helm,"Assez (1)! You two will loose both eyes if you don't stop now!" His and Mister Faulkner's laugh could be heard from the helm.

Mister Faulkner had taken the wheel since we were arriving at the Vineyard any minute now. It was amazing to see all of the ships and the island in the distance. Connor had pulled me to the bow of the ship ad were both leaning on the railing. The wind at seas was so much more different than in the frontier. It was a bit thicker but it still remained clean and fresh. Connor disliked the smell of the docks since it was thick of fish and salt, but I enjoyed it.

When the ship docked, Connor and I were the first off the ship. He was looking wildly at the colonial town he could explore and the different sights than Boston. From the docks we could see the cottages at the top of the hill. The island was less crowded, which is just the way I liked it.

"We'll be able to purchase our guns and find our officers at one of the taverns," Mister Faulkner guided Connor and I up the pier with William following us.

At the top of the hill, after that devastating climb, we arrived at the tavern Mister Faulkner said we would find our officers. The tavern was quiet compared to the ones in Boston and was practically empty. Mister Faulkner looked around and sighed, "Guess their not here yet, in the mean time we can go purchase out guns. Do you and William mind waiting here?" Mister Faulkner asked my mentor and me.

"I actually have some errands to run in town Mister Faulkner. Would you like to come with me Oiseau?" William asked

"Like you have to ask," I smirked and William ruffled my hair.

We all stepped out of the tavern and went our separate ways. Connor and Mister Faulkner walked towards another set of piers while William and I went in a separate direction. Unlike Boston, the Vineyard wasn't a complete maze. The market was on the edge of town with a thicker crowd. By the time William had finished all of our errands, and our arms full of supplies, we decided to seat ourselves on one of the benches. William had bought the both of us a sandwich and we were almost through, however William began to act very strange. He would always look up and his eyes were constantly locked and moving. Then he would look away, hiding his eyes, and then look up again. Eventually I got curious and I followed his line of sight.

At the end of the park, tempting men, was a beautiful courtesan. Her hair was cropped short and she wore turquoise dress the revealing her legs. A man would be a fool to pass her up…well ordinary men. William could never fall for a courtesan; perhaps she was an old lover.

When he noticed that I was looking at the same person, William gathered up our bags and began to walk out of the square. I quickly gathered up my bags and followed after him. "What was that about?" I questioned him.

"That woman is a Templar spy," William informed me.

"Really?!"

"Oui, her name is Gillian McCarthy and her brother is an Assassin. The last time I heard from him, Gillian was hunting down a target in Boston. And there's no way that she would come to the Vineyard since there are no Templar contacts here, or Assassins bases. Well- besides us and a few recruits," he explained as we turned into another alley.

"So then why would she-," I asked.

But William halted in mid step with his eyes focused at the end of the alley. I slowly turned my gaze in his direction and froze.

"Gillian," William greeted simply.

Gilliam leaned on one of the walls, playing with a dagger between her fingers.

"Mister Saint-Prix, I had no idea that a part of an Assassin's job was to babysit," she laughed.

William set his bags down on a crate without breaking eye contact and I did the same. More than anything, I wanted to punch that woman in the throat. I put my hand on my pistol, but William put his arm back and pushed me behind him.

"Let us leave and I will forget that we ever was you," William said along the lines of a threat. I could feel the frustration radiating off his words.

"I don't think so Assassin. The girl comes with me!" Gillian pushed herself off the wall.

My eyes widened and I could feel my ankles weaken. Why would she- wait! It was Charles; she wanted me because of him. But as much as I wanted to see Charles again, I had no intention of going with this woman.

"No," William drew his saber, "Isla stand back!" I did what my mentor asked and I back behind some crates. As soon as I was out of harms way, William lunged at the Gillian.

I had never seen William fight like this before. Every time Gillian took a swing at him with her knife, he would dodge quickly and counter with his sword. I wanted to help, to do anything, but I wasn't anywhere near their league. Gillian growled in annoyance before drawing a pistol from her skirt and pointed it at William. William saw the flash of silver and quickly pushed her arm and deflected the shot. She was caught be surprise and gave a big enough of a window for William to grab her wrist and twist it. The seductress dropped her pistol but made another swing with her knife. William barely dodged it and made a grab for her other wrist. With both of Gillian's wrists in his hands, he twirled both arms behind her back before shoving her against the brick wall. I heard a familiar clicking noise and saw William's hidden blade slide from his wrist.

I was going to sigh in relief that the battle had reached its end. Faster than I could react, a pair of large arms wrapped around my arms and neck. Without even looking I jabbed my boot's heel into my attackers toe and rammed my head into their nose. With their arm loosened, I quickly finished with an elbow to the ribs. But instead of making contact, the man grabbed my elbow and shoved me into the wall and drew a knife. With the blade deathly close to my cheek, I didn't dare make another move.

My eyes fell desperately to William, who still had Gillian against the wall. She let out a devilish laugh and smiled at William. "You kill me and your apprentice goes with me. Now if you would be so kind to let me go," Gillian smirked but William didn't loosen his hold.

The man that held me against the wall saw this as a threat and glided the blade against my cheekbone, but not hard enough to cut.

"Not yet, Michael! Let's see where this goes first," she called to the man playfully.

"Why are you here Gillian," William growled.

"For the girl obviously. Haytham asked for her, so he'll get her," Gillian answers vaguely. At this point she's toying with us.

"So you won't kill her. You need her alive," William stated angrily.

"True, true," Gillian pondered, "I can always tell Haytham it was just an accident. But the real question is if you're willing to take the risk." William snarled at the woman in his hold.

There's no way William could take the risk. For once in my time under William, I saw a hint of fear in his eyes. His lips were tight, but then loosened for a moment and for a split second everything had turned silent, like time had stopped. A gorgeous, graceful whistle echoed through the air and bounced off the walls. For a moment I blinked slowly and allowed myself to take a breath, and in the instant my captor's hold was gone after the loud bang of a rifle.

I opened my eyes to see him fall to his side with his eyes wide and empty. Dead. A bullet hole burned through in his hand that held a knife and a long dagger impaled into his skull. I brought my hand to my mouth and quickly turned back to William who had his hidden blade impaled into Gillian's lower back just above the hip. Her blood began to ooze down her leg and formed a puddle on the stone floor. I gagged at the smell of the rust and salt, but I had to hear her last words. I had to know why she wanted to use me.

I walked over to William, who had turned Gillian on her back and cradled her head. "Why did you seek out Isla? What use would she be to your cause?"

Gillian cough with blood seeping from her lips, "The Templars gave me all the money I needed to survive. I do what they want because they give me happiness with money. When Haytham asks we to do something I do it; he wants to find that traitor Charles Nelson. With the girl in our hands, Charles would come out of the light and fall right into our grasp."

Gillian heaved another gurgled cough before her eyes turned to glass. Her head fell backwards and her body went limp. William gently lowered her down and closed her eyes. "Bien que vous avez cherché à trouver le bonheur, vous avez pris le mauvais chemin et ne se trouve tragédie. Repose en paix Gillian McCarthy (2)," he spoke in French before standing up.

"Come. We must not linger here!" William ordered. He quickly took my wrist again and pulled me through the alleys towards the docks. Leaving behind the two corpses, the two Templars in the alley.

* * *

At the docks Mister Faulkner and Connor had already returned to the ship without us. Connor and Mister Faulkner rushed down from the helm when they saw us return with William's arm wrapped around my shoulders. "What in blazes happened?!" Mister Falkner said loudly.

"We need to get out to sea immediately Mister Faulkner! I will explain when we get some distance!" William said.

Mister Faulkner wanted to say something, but quickly hopped to getting the ship at full sail and from the Vineyard. Connor however stayed by our side and gave my arm a reassuring squeeze.

"Connor, why don't you take Isla bellow deck to get cleaned up," William offered as he removed his arm.

"Of course," Connor responded.

Connor then guided me below deck and back into our quarters. Although he rarely showed he emotions, I saw worry all over his face. He sat down on the cot across from me and took my hand. "What happened?" He asked quietly.

I looked down at our joined hands and exhaled at trembling breath, "We were attacked by a Templar agent. She wanted to take me so she could force Charles out into the open." I explained slowly and simply and Connor nodded.

"But that is not what is troubling you is it?"

I shook my head, "No. William assassinated her and a recruit killed her accomplice. I watched him kill her and give her the last rights." I gave Connor's hand a squeeze and I closed my eyes only to see that image again. "I don't know how William did it. Looking Gillian in the eyes as she confessed to him, knowing that he was the reason she was dying."

"So you are having second thoughts?"

I opened my eyes again and looked into Connor's. Those comforting brown eyes that have been watching over me for the longest time; I shook my head. "It was just an eye opener that's all. I want to become an Assassin, and I'm not going to let a little death stop me."

The Mohawk nodded and release my hand. I watched him dig into his pocket and pulled out a tangles mess of thread and beads. He quickly worked to get the mess untangled, revealing what it was he pulled out.

He held in front of me a beautiful Native necklace. The string was that close to rope with turquoise and brown beads in the middle. And in between them were two dangling white and brown multicolor feathers with a small bird charm that looked like it was carved out of glass. It wasn't fancy, but it had a bit of charm to it and I loved it.

Connor leaned over and tied the necklace around my neck before I could respond. "I made it for you a long time ago, but I didn't know when to give it to you."

I looked down and fiddled with the bird charm, "It's beautiful. Thank you so much."

"I found that stone while hunting. Achilles said its called quarts," Connor began, "Even back at my village, I don't really have friends that are girls. And when I met you I thought you would treat me like a Colonist would, but you saw me as an equal. I made this for you as a thank you for your friendship."

I was touched. Connor and I were close, but I never thought that he thought of me this way. I looked at him with my eyes watering and pulled him into a hug, our first hug. I felt him tense at my touch, but his muscles relaxed he placed his hands on my back. I buried my head into his shoulder and felt my heart beat slowly to a healthy rhythm. Being able to be held by my best friend, to even take in his unique scent of forest and nature put my heart at ease.

Through all this death and tragedy I've been through this past year, I still have the will to smile. I can still love and be happy through it all, and if I didn't have William or Achilles, especially Connor, I don't know where I would have wondered or what state I would be in. All I know is that I could do it without him.

I release Connor and gave him a warm smile as I wiped the Connor of my eyes. Connor's looked panicked a bit and a took my hand again, "I didn't mean to make you cry!"

I laughed and sniffed, "No. No. I'm just happy, I feel a lot better now. I just had no idea that you thought of me that way."

"Of course I do, you are my friend Isla and I do not like seeing you like this. You told me before that you will always be there for me, and I will always be there for you," he told me and I nodded.

"I know I already said it," I squeezed his hand, "But thank you…so much."

* * *

(ONE WEEK LATER)

It felt good to step back onto the Homestead after everything has happened. Achilles kept himself busy with redecorating the manor. White sheets no longer covered all the furniture and it seemed like the whole place was coming to life. However back at the manor, William requested that we all would have a meeting in the dining room.

William explained in great detail what had happened at Martha's Vineyard. The whole situation was terrible, but at the same time it all made sense. If the Templars were looking for me they would never think to look out in the frontier. Out here there was nothing for me, or so they thought. And though we had killed Gillian that does not mean that they won't stop looking.

"This is most troubling," Achilles stated, "I guess Charles had gotten himself deeper into the Templar than I had thought."

"Deep enough to where they're going after his family. Do you know where your mother and father are?" William asked me.

"They're in Georgia right now and our siblings live in the southern colonies as well," I said.

Achilles scratched his chin slowly, "Hmm, then there is little we can do for them at the moment. Right now we have to focus on us. We can not let the Templars know we are reviving the Brotherhood here at the Homestead."

"Yes," William nodded, "They may have seen me, but that does not mean that the American Assassin's are coming back; since I am from the French Branch."

"So what can we do?" Connor asked our mentors. I just kept quite, I found myself feeling guilty since this was because of me. And I am willing to do what is needed to keep everyone safe.

"I have been exchanging letters with several of our Brothers from Pennsylvania. Though they are working separately, they working to rebuild a guild like base there. With so many Assassin's from here in the Colonies and from over seas gathering there, it would be a safe haven and the perfect environment to train," Achilles explained.

"So what are you saying? That I should pack up and leave?" I explained and stood from my seat.

"I will go with you Isla. The Templars have no knowledge of this guild since there was none in Pennsylvania. We will be safe there," William stood up and placed a hand on my shoulder, "We won't leave immediately, there's time for it all to sink in."

"You just don't get it!" I shrugged off his hand and stomped out of the manor. I didn't care if I made them angry or if I looked like a spoiled brat. I just couldn't believe after finding a home here, I had to leave. After Connor and I bridged that finally gap between us, and now I had to leave.

"Isla!" Connor called after me. I didn't even turn around to face him. He walked around me so that we were facing each other.

"I don't want to go!" I shout, "This is my home!"

Connor squeezed his lips together and his hands lifted as if he wanted to touch me, but thought that I would just shove him off again.

"I'm tired of being jerked around. First my parents, my aunt and uncle, with Charles, and now this!" I gestured to the manor.

"I know that I want to become an Assassin. No matter what, I will become one!" I continue, "But I'm tired of all this!"

I didn't even notice it, but my eyes were beginning to water again. My fists flew to my face in an attempt to stop the tears, but they just poured out. I felt Connor slowly wrap his arms around my back and pull me to his chest. He must think I'm such a fool, to see me like this. A future Assassin crying over moving to another home, but I didn't want to go.

Connor and Achilles are my family now. Achilles: The boorish man who was wise and kept us out of trouble. His words were harsh be he talked to me and scolded me with meaning. When he patted me on the back, it felt like a father praising his child. And Connor: My best friend in the world who gave me this necklace. He was always there to look out for me and to be that friend that I needed most. Though William was coming with me, my life would change again and it wouldn't be the same without them.

When my tears slowed, Connor backed up and removed my hands. He only smiled at me sadly as he brought up his sleeve and wiped my tears away, "This will always be your home Isla and Achilles and I will always be your family."

He rested his hands on my shoulders and I brought my hands up and gripped his sleeves, "I do not want anything bad to happen to you, so if going away to train somewhere else means that you will be safe then I am okay with that."

"Connor-," I interrupted, but he stopped me again.

"But when your training is done and the day that you do come back- Achilles and I will be here waiting for you." I buried my face back into Connor's chest again, taking it all in.

And from that moment on, my life had not transitioned into a new chapter.

* * *

_From that day, I vowed that I would never cry again. I wouldn't whine or sadden myself with the negative emotions of the human heart. Connor and Achilles gave me everything I needed to prepare myself for this new chapter of my life. An Assassin embodies pain itself. In the end Ezio Auditore was correct that Assassins cause pain, we endure it, we watch it happen around us. And not until that last day with Connor did I realize that this is what makes us an Assassin. We are strong and we endure everything despite the suffering and death. For with every sin the Templars make, we fight and pick up the pieces for the people. We insure their freedom and we fight. This is why the Assassin's will never be destroyed despite the brothers and sisters we loose. Because with each painful surge of tragedy we feel, it makes us strong. It makes us fight. And for that reason, our order still lives._

_Requiescat en pace…il mio vecchio sé…_

* * *

** From here, the story will be told in third person for a few chapters to see how the writing style is, then I will switch back to Isla and maybe to Connor's perspective. I will eventualy go back and rewrite the chapters in first person when I have the time. Plz R&R and feel free to send me ideas for the story. You may inspire me and I will give you exactly what you all want to read. See ya later!**

******IN THE FUTURE CHAPTERS THERE WILL BE SEVERAL SIDE CHARACTERS. IF YOU HAVE AN IDEA FOR A NAME OF A CHARACTER OR HAVE AN OC THAT YOU MADE UP AND WANT HIM OR HER IN THE STORY, PM OR LEAVE A REVIEW SO I CAN PUT IN THEIR NAME :D**

**(1) Assez – French for enough.**

**(2)**** Bien que vous avez cherché à trouver le bonheur, vous avez pris le mauvais chemin et ne se trouve tragédie. Repose en paix Gillian McCarthy – "Though you sought to find happiness, you took the wrong path and only found tragedy. Rest in peace Gillian McCarthy."**

**(3)**** Requiescat en pace…il mio vecchio sé – Italian for Rest in peace…My old self…**


	7. A New Chapter

**IN THE FUTURE CHAPTERS THERE WILL BE SEVERAL SIDE CHARACTERS. IF YOU HAVE AN IDEA FOR A NAME OF A CHARACTER OR HAVE AN OC THAT YOU MADE UP AND WANT HIM OR HER IN THE STORY, PM OR LEAVE A REVIEW SO I CAN PUT IN THEIR NAME :D**

* * *

1774 PHILADELPHIA, PA (THREE YEARS LATER): A NEW CHAPTER

"_The year you were born marks only your entry into the world. Other years where you prove your worth, they are the ones worth celebrating. " _

_~Jarod Kintz_

* * *

_Dear Connor,_

_I hope when you get this letter, you are doing very well. I still feel guilty that I wasn't there so see you inducted into the Brotherhood, but I'm still very happy for you. Even after four years of hard training, I feel so far from becoming an Assassin. _

_The guild here in Pennsylvania is growing with members, and our rooms are almost always full with brothers and sisters as well as our allies. William leads us with strength and wisdom despite him being only twenty-nine, well thirty since his birthday is only a few weeks away. _

_Joining us in the guild is Fillan McCarthy, Gillian's older brother, and one of my teachers. There's also Joe. In all honest he's quite scary and a complete mystery. He only goes out at night and spends the day inside the guild in seclusion. And Caleb Garret, our skilled rifleman. That man puts any soldier to shame with his skill with a gun, and is well educated with any kind of explosive._

_Several of our allies stay here in the guild since we offer them bed and food in return for their loyalty and skill. Emily Burke, or more commonly know as Calamity Milly, stays with us when she's not hunting in the frontier. She's a good friend and ally to the Brotherhood. And one of our most recent occupants is Alsoomse, a woman of Shawnee heritage. I had run into her during a mission with Joe when she was chasing after a Templar, and I had invited her to stay with us since most inns would deny her service. _

_With so many people supporting us and with our numbers growing, I feel like we are so close to taking back the Colonies and rebuilding the Brotherhood. But at the same time I fear that the Templars will one-day notice our presence. Who am I kidding they must know we're here. However I will not allow this to scare me away and I'm certain that you will do the same. Please stay safe and healthy._

_Isla B._

* * *

When Isla had finished the letter, she folded it and stuffed it into the envelope triumphantly. Her busy schedule kept her from return her letters to Connor these past months. Because with every letter she sends, she get's another in return from her best friend.

She sat at her desk within her room at the Assassin's hidden guild. The guild was disguised like a tavern below, and in the back and on the top floors were where she lived along side her brothers and sisters. Her rooms was simple; a twin bed with a desk, bookshelf, and closet for her small assortment of clothes. Instead of shopping for new clothes, she often found herself at general stores looking for swords and daggers that were brought in from over seas. This took up most of the room in her closet.

"Finished!" Isla cheered before she stretched out her arms. Little did she know that a mischievous figure watched from the window.

"What's finished?" He asked.

Isla jumped and pulled her dagger from her belt ready to fight. When she turned to the window, it was only Fillan who had disturbed her in her private time. Isla sighed in relief before tucking her dagger away.

"Couldn't you knock?" Isla said clearly annoyed with Fillan's antics.

"And where's the fun in that?" Fillan laughed. "Come on, time to train," he gestured out the window.

Isla tucked the letter in her pocket and sighed again. _Looks like mailing the letter till Connor would have to wait until I'm done with training _Isla thought. She climbed out onto the tavern's sign and that Fillan had been balancing on while buckling her belt that held her rapier to her waist.

Fillan effortlessly jumped from wooden sign to sign before climbing up a set of windows to the top of the roof. He held out his hand and curled his fingers in, challenging her to follow. Slipping on her climbing gloves, she bents her legs and began to leap the exact steps that Fillan had showed her. At the last sign, she caught her balance and jumped as hard as she could for the windowsill. When her hands caught the ledge, she pushed off with her feet and repeated this motion for the next window until she was at the top.

"Easy!" Isla declared to Fillan.

"Well this is only the start of the day," Fillan informed her, "William gave me a task that I need to complete and it will go a lot faster with your help."

"Oh, you? Mister I-Can-Do-Anything needs my help? I'm honored!" Isla swooned with sarcasm in her voice.

Fillan slapped her back and rolled his eyes with a smile. Despite him being her superior, they often conversed in such a manner. Often with jokes and laughs and a lighthearted attitude. It was Fillan who came at Isla in such a way despite her being present when William assassinated his sister. Fillan often said that he wants to do right by the trouble Gillian had caused for the Assassins, and by doing so; it brought him a sense of peace.

Both he and Isla freeran over the rooftops of Philadelphia. With her muscle strong and firm, Isla had no trouble keeping up with Fillan and the other Assassins. She no longer had to catch up with them, because she was now rivaling them in skill. As each day passed for her, she absorbed new skills and grew in strength. However William would not let her move on to more _important _targets. He would always leave her to lifting martial law, which involved stopping tax collectors or stopping executions. And though she tired of being given such light missions, she executed them with precision allowing to witnesses and finishing her targets with one hit. The people automatically assumed that man, or in some cases several, were responsible for these acts of rebellion. Isla only smiled, thinking back to her last alias: Ian.

When the two Assassins reached their desire location, they both looked down from the roof in search of Fillan's target. "There!" He pointed in a hushed tone. Isla followed his pointing finger to see another tax collector terrorizing another American home. The man pounded on the door of the home and went as far as hitting it with the butt of his rifle. The woman on the other side of the door shrieked in terror as the wood began to cave in.

Isla already knew his type. The type of man who would give anything for a little bit of pounds in his pocket, and then spend it on booze and women. She looked at Fillan who gave her a mischievous smirk and gestured with his head to the shouting man.

* * *

The tax collector kept on pounding on the door with his rifle and foot, shouting and cursing the residents. But even as the door began to give he still gave into one of his greatest weakness. "Ahem!" A feminine voice beckoned his attention. The man turned around with an angered expression, but softened when he saw the lovely creature.

Before him stood Isla, leaning on the fence post with her hand playing with her hair. Her brown locks were loose from her normal bun and her collared shirt had been unbuttoned a few notches. When she had reached the age of eighteen, her body began to mature to that of a woman's. She was now taller and far curvier to that of a man's standards. And with her rather unwomanly attire that consisted of black breaches, boots, and a shirt; how could the man resist.

"What's a fine lady like yourself doin' in such a dump?" The man flirted.

Isla batted her eyes, "Why, looking for a fine man like yourself," she said innocently.

"Well now- ya' certainly have good taste," the man stood proudly before her, "I would love to _entertain _ya' sweetheart, but I got some taxes to collect." The tax collector turned around readying himself to bust down the door again.

Isla blanched and rushed forward, she couldn't let him get into that house. She took hold of the man's necktie and turned him back to her gaze. The man froze as their noses her now touching and the only thing that filled his range of vision were her ember eyes. He swallowed deeply giving into his desires once again.

"Come with me," Isla whispered into her ear seductively. With a gentle tug of his tie, she led him into an alley next to the house. It was dark and shrouded in shadows, the perfect place. When they were deeper into the alley, the pig immediately pushed Isla against the wall. A huge mistake on his part.

Before he could even comprehend what had hit him, with a flash of silver, blood began to pour from his chest. Her hidden blade retracted as he began to crumble to his knees, but Isla caught him and held his head. "W-Why?!" He begged as blood spewed from his lips. Death no longer bothered Isla like it did before. For if she did not end men that caused such pain, only more would suffer.

"I know you do not work for the crown. Your leader, Johnson, is dead! You've no right to take money from those who work hard to earn it," Isla spoke.

"Oh please," the man chuckled even on the verge of death, "The money they earn will be spent, then they will spend it, and eventually it will end up in my hands. There is no point in waiting anymore with Johnson dead." His eyes rolled back into his head with one last breath.

Isla shook her head before gently placing his head down. She brought her fingers over his eyes and gently closed them, "Requiescat in pace." With his eyes closed, Isla dug into his pockets and pulled out several pouches of coins that he had taken.

As the sound of a British patrol neared the alley, Isla quickly sunk into the shadows before making her escape. From the roof beside Fillan, they watched as the guards carried away the body of the tax collect like it was normal to them. The bystanders looked on but did not morn the loss of such a man. They knew it is was one less tax collector that they had to worry about.

Fillan looked at the young apprentice, "Another one?"

"Yes," Isla nodded, "I thought with Johnson dead they would all just scatter, but it looks like they're causing more trouble than ever."

Fillan patted her shoulder, "Well, what are we going to do with the money now? Put it towards the guild?"

Isla tossed the bag in her hand playfully before tucking it away with the others. "I'm sure the church or a near by orphanage will put better use to it than we would," she smiled.

Fillan paled, "What?!"

Isla playfully patted his shoulder in the same manner that he would do to her, "Come on! I still have to deliver my letter. We can stop at the church on the way."

* * *

Fillan and Isla soon returned to their secret guild later that night. Due to Fillan's thieving history, he protested in simply giving the money away to the church. But he eventually saw this as just a normal thing he should be expecting from the apprentice. She was defiantly William's student in more ways that one. Often stopping to give coin to the orphans on the street or stopping a thief who had stolen someone's money pouch. This eventually grew on the other recruits that began to pour into the guild as well. Although she was not an Assassin yet, she was still highly skilled beyond the others. And what they saw her do in the field, they often mimicked themselves.

Upon returning to the tavern that was the mask for their hideout, several men and women still took up residence at the bar. The keepers of course were fully aware of their upstairs occupants, and were in full support of their cause. No one ever thought to look for an Assassins' hideout above a bar full of people. It was also reassurance that the Templars would not attack them in the open since the tavern was open twenty four-seven.

When they entered the guild's main room, several members were seated around one of the large tables. All of the Philadelphia Assassin's and allies were all seated when they entered the room. Save for Joe, who lurked in the corner of the room. William stood at the head of the table, which was covered from end to end with food and pastries from the kitchen below. Isla looked at them curiously and her good friend, Milly, laughed, "Did you honestly think we would forget?"

"It's not everyday that a girl turns eighteen!" Fillan slapped Isla's back.

"I had Fillan take you out so we could prepare everything here!" William explained. "Happy Birthday Oiseau!"

Isla couldn't contain her smile any longer. She quickly rounded the table and threw her arms around her mentor's neck. Everyone course a 'Happy Birthday' before William sat his apprentice at the head of the table. He then took a seat beside her and they all began to dig into the meal that was provided for this special night. Even Joe, who had loved the shadow of his corner, walked over and joined the rest of the Assassins. Normally, William would give her one of her favorite sweets for her birthday, but never before did all of their brothers and sisters get together for just her. It made her feel like a queen for the night, but there was something still missing.

While speaking with Caleb about her old home in Massachusetts, her hand subconsciously traveled to her necklace. Ever since Connor gave it to her a few days before she left, she had never taken it off. Around this time of year, and around his birthday, they would exchange letters with the first words being 'Happy Birthday'. Connor was now nineteen and now a man on the verge of his twenties. Isla often wondered what he looked like now. No doubt he wears his new robes, and like any other man, he must have changed a lot. He would also tell her of the growing community on the homestead, and the people who now take shelter there and the adventures he went though with them.

In their letters they would discuss everything. Connor would often convey his feelings of his life's mission. About his targets and goals, and on rare occasions, his doubts. Isla would often tell him of her training a new life. Of her days studying and learning Italian and Spanish along side William. She was determined to learn the languages of her ethnicity and being able to converse with William out in the open. She often feared that others would eavesdrop on their conversations, and Italian is rare amongst the Colonies. Isla embraced her Italian side of her family and often read of Ezio and his journey through Italy. Eventually, she had come to see him as a role model and a goal that she could achieve in the future.

Towards the end of the meal William had disappeared into his room and did not return for sometime. While Isla waited for him to return, Milly leaned over the table. "Make sure to thank him later. They're authentic and he had to do a lot of studying," Milly spoke.

Isla cocked a brow and was about to ask what it is Milly was refereeing to, but William had returned. He held in his hands a parcel wrapped in a thin blanket and handed it to Isla. She eyed it carful and thanked him although she didn't know what exactly it was. "Why don't you go and change," William told her. So that's what it was; clothes. Isla's eyes beamed before she rushed into a changing room and opened the package.

Milly was right when she said they were authentic. They were Assassin robes of Italian origin from what she could see with white pans and brown boots with buckles lining the side. They looked almost exactly like the black robes Ezio wore with the armor of Altair, but the main color was a vanilla shade with different shades of brown and turquoise.

The top of the robes looked more modern and the eagle's beak on the hood was longer with a diamond shade what was embedded with a scroll design. The sleeves were not puffy and loose, but hugged her arms and had colonial cuffs. The folds on the skirt part of the robes were just like Ezio's black robes but the front went to her knees and the tail went to the middle of her shin. But what made the robes unique was the leather corset that went over them. It had several leather pockets, bags, and holsters for weapons and other items. And to finish it off was the traditional red sash across the waist fastened with the Assassin Order insignia.

Isla looked at herself in the mirror as she pulled on her hood. _Was this really it? _She thought excitedly. She exited the changing room and saw everyone standing from their seats. Also, several other apprentices that she had fought beside had also joined them with out allies to the side. They all smiled and placed their arms across their chests and bowed as Isla walked down the isle they formed. At the end William also saluted her that she returned. She had also noticed a polished, wooden chest on the table beside him. Then she thought about what Milly had said about William having to study.

_This was it!_

"Laa shay'a waqi'un moutlaq bale kouloun moumkine. The wisdom of our Creed is revealed through these words," William spoke clearly, "We work in the dark, to serve the light. We are Assassins."

Isla's heart began to race as William finished the introduction to the ceremony. It took every part of her not to jump up from the adrenaline as he spoke.

"Isla Bocelli. You have served the order for many, many years despite the dangers and with no true bond with your brothers and sisters. Without hesitation you have put the needs of the people though the doubt you had in your own power. Now all of that effort has brought you here and now I give you a choice," William held out his hand to her, "Join us."

Isla didn't even hesitate in taking his hand. She looked up through her hood, "I will serve the order with my life. I swear it."

William gave her a proud look and opened the chest revealing two new hidden blades. The one he fastened on her right was equipped with a hook blade and hid under her sleeve perfectly. The one on the left was heavy and was fastened over her sleeve and climbing gloves. When she turned over her arm she saw a complicated mechanism attached to the bottom. It was something she had not yet seen before, but she made sure that she would learn to use it right.

Before William finished, he slipped a metal Assassin insignia onto her left hidden blade with leather straps. Isla put her arms to her sides when he finished. William gave her once apprentice one last proud look before turning to the rest of the Assassins. Now Isla's brothers and sisters.

"Where other men blindly follow the truth, remember..." William began.

"Nothing is true," Isla and the Assassins chanted together.

"Where other men are limited by morality or law, remember..." William started again.

"Everything is permitted," they all finished together.

As one.

* * *

**She is now a woman! This is my first chapter in third person and i will eventually go back to first in the future! R&R Plz!**

**IN THE FUTURE CHAPTERS THERE WILL BE SEVERAL SIDE CHARACTERS. IF YOU HAVE AN IDEA FOR A NAME OF A CHARACTER OR HAVE AN OC THAT YOU MADE UP AND WANT HIM OR HER IN THE STORY, PM OR LEAVE A REVIEW SO I CAN PUT IN THEIR NAME :D**


	8. Out in the Field

APRIL 10, 1775 PHILADELPHIA, PA (FOUR MONTHS LATER): OUT IN THE FIELD

* * *

"_Proving__ yourself in a field where the casualty rate is so notoriously high is an ongoing challenge.__"_

_~Richard E. Grant_

* * *

Isla and her fellow Assassins watched as recruits practiced their Leap of Faith in the frontier. Here the recruits could practice without being seen and it was more challenging terrain to freerun on than the city. Armed to the teeth with duo pistols from Caleb, a mini crossbow on her hip from Milly, and twin daggers from Alsoomse. Her foreign two handed, curved sword strapped to her waist along that was a gift from Fillan for her birthday was now strapped to her waist. He explained he had stolen it long ago from the merchant from one of the many black-markets in the Colonies. It wasn't his style and he gave it to her in hopes that she would make better use of it.

Caleb noticed Isla smiling at the apprentices training with Fillan up in the treetops. "Feels just like yesterday doesn't it," Caleb said while leaning on his rifle.

Isla turned to him and held out her arm revealing her hidden gun, "It's strange how different you feel with your title and a different set of clothes."

"And weapons," Caleb added, "Have you gotten used to it?" Caleb motioned to her hidden gun.

"I'm much better at holding my arm steady. Just one gunshot sends my whole body backwards. I think it's best if I only use it if the target is close to me. That way I'll know I'll hit it with one shot," she explained.

"And how about the new missions?"

After being inducted into the Brotherhood, Isla was given a wide range of missions and all of them involved the same thing. With each Templar she ended, each one said the same thing. Charles has covered his tracks well and has been avoiding any contact with the Templars. There have been whispers that he may have already left Philadelphia, but he has set up a permanent location here in the city. Whenever Isla would find a hideout where he may have lived, she found no trace of him. Even now she still does not know for what reason he hides from the Brotherhood and the Templars. But all Isla could ever do is wait and hope she will come across a solid lead.

"I feel like he's close, but just out of my reach. Why is he hiding from us?" Isla asked.

"Who knows," Caleb shrugged, "All you can do is have faith that he's doing all right."

Isla nodded. That's all she can do now is just have faith that her brother is doing all right. But a part of her wished that he could see her now, and wondered if he would approve.

From behind the two, another one of the apprentices ran up from behind them. Caleb and Isla turned as the recruit saluted them. "Isla! William requires your presence in his study," the recruit informed them.

"I see, thank you," she nodded before turning to Caleb as she pulled up her hood, "Well, duty calls!"

When William took up the role of mentor, he didn't travel out of the den for quite sometime. He would always be inside recording everything they saw and heard. The mentor also taught recruits inside the den of the ways of the Brotherhood and its history. Isla had actually grown jealous on occasion since he was no longer her personal teacher. But I was fun watching him speak to a group of young recruits. As of now there are at least twenty apprentices in the guild. But so far only Isla, William, Caleb, Joe, and Fillan were the only official Assassin's in Philadelphia. That meant that Isla, Caleb, and Fillan were helping the recruits train in combat while William juggled with maintaining the order and teaching.

At the den, Isla gave a light knock on the door. "Come in!" William called from the other side of the door. Normally she never had to knock, but the other recruits outside, she had to make it look professional.

William sat at his desk, buried in paperwork. His coat and hat were thrown onto the couch against the wall. "You sent for me?" Isla asked, "Is something wrong?"

"Not for us," William informed her as he flipped to another piece of paper. "There will be a shipment of weapons traveling to Concord tomorrow night. I would like you to escort the convoy for me."

"Since when are we sympathetic to the Patriot cause?" Isla folded her arms, "They fight for the freedom of _white _men." Isla saw past the Patriot cause. In their view of freedom everyone, no matter was race or class, all should be free. But slaves and those of dark skin have been not been supported by the Patriots. And what of the Natives? What of Connor's village and Alsoomse? When will someone fight for his or her freedom?

"That is true, but that is not why we are helping them," William began, "Through our contacts John Pitcairn is planning and assault on the Lexington and Concord. As you know, he is one of Connor's many targets and although we do not fight for the Patriots, we do fight for freedom. That convoy will no doubt be attacked by Templars on its way to Concord, and it needs to be there if the Patriots are going to stand a chance."

Isla drummed her fingers, "Well…If it's for Connor." She looked back to when she was shown the portraits of Connor's Templar targets. Each of those men had to die at his hands for his people and for freedom.

"Very good," William looked up from his papers, "And there's one more thing."

"More?" She sighed and relaxed into her chair.

"Now that you've become one of us, I am allowing you to take on the search for Charles on your own," he said.

"Wait! What do you mean?" Isla questioned in shock. Her hands were squeezing the chair's arms with a racing heart.

William stood from his desk and walked around so he was leaning on the front of the desk. "It means that you no longer have to wait on me to tell you what to do. I'm allowing you to take up this investigation on your own, and allowing you to pick and choose your targets."

"Really!" She beamed and jumped from her seat.

"However I want you to write reports every month. Even if you come up with nothing," William instructed.

Isla's eyes were bright and happy. She was now free to look for Charles on her own, and now she can venture from Philadelphia now too. This meant that she would be able to broaden her search in other cities.

William looked at her apprentice with sad and yet happy eyes. Isla noticed and smiled back, "What's wrong?"

William chuckled, "Whenever I look at you, I see the small girl that I met four years ago. I keep forgetting that you can take care of yourself."

Isla wrapped her arms around William's middle, a hug a graciously accepted. She had now come to see him as a father more than a teacher. And a daughter is saddened when she is separated from her father. William looked down at Isla, now eighteen and practically fully-grown. He feared the day he would have to let her go and watch her make a difference in the world. It would be dangerous, but he made her strong.

William held her a little tighter and poured every bit of love he had for his _daughter_, "Stay safe Oiseau."

(TWO DAYS LATER)

* * *

The shadows were an Assassin's only ally when facing the world. They can hide within the darkness and watch the world from another angle. From their safe place, Assassin's watched as the Templars hunted them down and killed all who stood in their way. Because of this, the Brotherhood faltered and crumbled. But now, like the phoenix, the Order was rising from the ashes. With every new member, the Order grew stronger.

The convoy stopped for the night and was now circled around a campfire. Isla sat on one of the highest branches with her back against the tree trunk and her legs extended. She did well to guard them in secret. Onyx was a good horse and would follow below as Isla ran across the trees. When their journey came to a stop, she removed his tack and he now grazed below the tree.

The journey itself was not to rough for the first two days. They would run in to the occasional checkpoint along the road, but it was nothing the mercenaries that were hired as an escort couldn't handle. This made it much easier for her to guard them, and whoever was chosen to hire these men wasted no expense. This also meant that Isla could saver her energy for when she would get to Boston. As much as she wished to see Achilles and Connor again, they had to wait until she found a decent lead.

She already knew what to do. Seek out Commander Davenport and his daughter Eleanor Mallow. If she recalled correctly, Commander Davenport port and his daughter were Templars. There was no way she could approach them before since they are always guarded by Red Coats twenty four-seven. But now that there are beginnings of a war approaching, they will have to come out of their forts eventually. Then her thoughts brought her to wonder if they thought _Ian _was still alive. No doubt there was a layer of insecurity under that hard mask Davenport put out for others to see. He probably thinks that Ian is still out their planning to strike when he least expects it. But little did he know that Ian was dead and now Isla is all that remains. And he should fear her more.

But before she could even think about going after him, she had to find out what city he was taking cover in. And that meant she had to work her way up the latter of those closest to him. Which meant her next target was Gerhard von Stantten, his personal guard.

While her eyes were glued to the campsite in the distance, the sound of creaking wood reached Isla's ears. Her gaze turned to the shadow of the trees far from the moonlight. She narrowed her eyes and saw something perched on one of the branches about ten feet away. It was far too large to be a bird and it slowly leapt across the branches, going her direction. Isla slowly curled her legs and went in a crouching position. Whoever it was didn't see her yet and Isla could use this to her advantage. She hid well in the shadows and made her breathing slow and shallow.

When the man or woman made a jump for her branch, as soon as he or she landed, Isla pounced. She knocked him or her down off the branch and fell with Isla's hand gripping their neck. They both landed in a thick pile of leaves below. With a flick of her wrist, Isla activated her hidden blade and readied for an attack.

The man's hands flew up, "Isla! It's me!"

Isla's eye widened and retracted her blade at seeing a familiar face.

The clouds hiding the moon began to shift, and moonlight leaked through the trees. It's light shown on the two of them revealing the man to be Caleb. His trademark hat was gone and hidden by a cloak, so it made it hard for Isla to recognize him.

Isla stood up and gave a hand to Caleb before she pulled him to his feet. "What were you thinking?! I could have killed you!"

Caleb massaged his throat, "Heh, I forgot how skilled you were. Didn't even see you."

Isla pinched her nose in frustration and Caleb's easygoing attitude in comparison to her own. "Why are you here?" She asked with a groan.

"I decided to tag along with you. I was worried and-," Caleb began to tell her, but Isla saw right through it.

"William sent you didn't he?" She interrupted.

"He worried about you. What would you expect?" Caleb shrugged.

Isla sighed. She appreciated how much William worried about her, but he promised that she could do this on her own. At the same time she was angry at the fact that she didn't see this coming. Isla ran her hand over her face, pulling at her skin.

"Well…I guess I could use some help when I get to Boston," she mumbled.

Caleb threw his arm over her shoulder, "I would have stayed even if you didn't want my help… _Oiseau._"

"Oh shut up!" Isla punched his shoulder.

* * *

(APRIL 17, 1775)

Concord was no longer the quiet town it used to be. Several of the men and the occasional woman were all in lines holding rifles and shooting at glass bottles on crates. Men with loud voices, shouting at them to keep going and to fight, were drilling them all.

The convoy arrived around sunset and was busy unloading all the weapons and supplies. Now that Isla saw them unload all of the supplies, she couldn't believe they were going to fight against the British. The world's strongest military force was coming to fight a bunch of armatures holding rifles in their hands. She believed that it wouldn't even be a battle; it will only be a massacre.

"All right, let's go find a place to stay for the night," Isla said before she and Caleb rode deeper into town.

Once they traveled deeper into the town, they realized that it was practically a ghost town. The only people who remained were woman working as nurses and men training to become soldiers. All of the inns and houses were turned into hospitals and homes for the soldiers leaving only the stables unoccupied. Isla sighed before dismounting and leading Onyx into one of the stalls while Caleb led his horse in the stall next to them. As they was taking off his saddlebags she heard footsteps approaching from behind.

They turned to see a man dressed in a fine red coat of elderly age. He had his hands tucked behind his chest and held himself high. Judging by the clothes, he must be one of the men commanding the newly trained soldiers.

"I haven't seen you two around here before," he said as he looked from Isla to Caleb.

"We don't live here. We're just passing through is all," Isla explained.

"Passing through or not, you should not be here!" The man said more firmly, "Who are you two anyway?"

Caleb was about to snap back, but Isla cut him off.

"Give us your name first, then we'll consider giving you ours," Isla folded her arms.

The man in the red coat chuckled, "James Barrett."

"Hmph, Isla Bocelli," Isla returned slowly.

"My name is Caleb," Caleb grumbled.

Now they knew who he was. He was a representative in the Boston legislature and he lent his farm to the rebels to store all their supplies.

Barrett looked her up and down, "You're do not dress like an ordinary woman."

Isla heard Caleb let out a short chuckle. From the corner of her eye, she could see him trying to busy himself with brushing his horse to hide his smile.

"That's because I'm not. I'm a mercenary, and so is Caleb," she lied.

"Indeed, however this town is now being used for war. If you are not going to aid us in anyway, then leave. You're taking up space that can be put to use," Barrett rolled his eyes before stalking off to take care of the rest of the soldiers.

Isla scowled at his back before removing Onyx's saddle. When he was far away enough, she looked to Caleb, "What a jerk!"

"Hey, it's usually the jerks that are good at what they do," Caleb pointed out, "So what are we going to do when we get to Boston?"

"Yes, I have some friends in Boston who may be able to help us find Commander Davenport's personal guard, Gerhard von Stantten."

"And who are these friends of yours?" Caleb turned from his mare.

Isla squeezed her lips together, "Umm, t-their courtesans."

Caleb began to laugh as he slapped his hand on the small wall separating the stalls. Isla's face turned embarrassed.

"It's not what it sounds like! I ran into them when I was young! I-I'm still a virgin! I swear it!" Isla flustered not even realizing what she just said.

"Well, well, now that's not a surprise," Caleb kept laughing.

While Caleb held his stomach, Isla gave up on trying to bring him back to Earth. Her eyes wondered outside the stables where she saw another man talking with Barrett. And through Caleb's dying laughter she hear the name 'Revere'. That name was also familiar. He was one of the Sons of Liberty and an associate to Samuel Adams, who was an associate of Connor. She watched the two part ways after shaking hands. Isla didn't even register what she was doing when she began to walk up to Revere.

"Excuse me! Mr. Revere," Isla waved as she approached him.

Revere turned to Isla, "Yes? How may I help you?"

"My name is Isla," Isla held out her hand, "and I was hoping you can help me."

Despite wanting a shake of the hand, he brought her hand to her lips and kissed it gently, "Of course, do I know you?"

"No," Isla took her hand away gently, "But you may know my friend Connor."

Revere' face brightened, "Ah! Yes, Connor! A good lad indeed!"

Isla couldn't help but smile, "He is a good man. Now I was wondering if you could tell me if you know anything about Gerhard von Stantten. He's a high ranking soldier under British order and a member of the private guard for Matthew Davenport and Eleanor Mallow; his daughter."

Revere pinched his chin, "Hmm, those names are familiar to me, but if you are looking for them then I'm afraid I do not know anything about them more that you do."

Isla's shoulders lowered in disappointment, "I see, but thank you anyway."

"It is no trouble. If you don't mind me asking, how did you come to know Connor?"

"Connor and I met years ago and I stayed with him at Davenport Manor. I haven't seen him in years though," Isla answered. She knew she shouldn't give away to much information.

"Well now, my dear, you'll meet him soon," Revere smiled.

"Pardon?"

"Connor may be on his way here!" Revere explained.

There were no words to describe how Isla felt. She was surprised, no doubt about that, but after all these years, she would see her friend again. But at the same time, she was terrified in a way since she hasn't seen him face-to-face in four years.

"Haha! To happy for words I see," Revere laughed, "I apologize but I must get going. The Regulars are on the march and I must continue to spread the word."

Before Isla had a chance to snap out of her daze, or even say goodbye, Revere had already ran off to mount his horse. Isla just watched as he rode off down the road while she stood there in shock. Whether she liked it or not, Connor was on his way here and she now had to figure out what it is she was going to do.

* * *

(LATER THAT DAY)

Connor gazed at the British corpses that lined the road. To think all of these men died in the span of an hour. No doubt there was other battles farther up the river where more were are slaughtered. But despite the Patriot victory, Connor felt as if he had lost. Pitcairn had retreated when the battle did not go as he predicted and fell back with his men. Connor felt the bitterness of failure as he watched the Patriots charging down the road after the remaining Red Coats. As he watched from the side, James barret joined him as well and looked upon the bodies before exhaling through his nose.

"Takes a truemonster to do something like this... At least they're gone," he looked to Connor.

" I should have struck when I had the chance... Do you know where Pitcairn could've gone?" Connor demanded.

"Back into the withered bosom of the British no doubt - so that he might regroup and plan his next atrocity," Barrett answered painfully.

"I need to find him. Every day I wait, more will suffer..." Connor explained his impatience.

"Chin up, friend. Many who should've died today now live because of you," Barrett made an attempt to lift Connor's spirits, but Connor brushed it off. He didn't want the honor of causing all the bloodshed. He was used to killing, but he never, ever to pride in it.

"And what of them?" Connor motioned with his hand to show the dead lying in the grass. So many suffer due to the orders of those above them. Connor knew in his heart that some of these men were forced to hold a rifle and onto the battlefield. And now their love ones are left to weep and morn their loss.

For once, Barrett's face softened as he was forced to look upon the fallen. He sighed again, breathing in the spoke and the rustic smell of blood. Barrett felt the guilt just as Connor did and looked him in the eyes knowing there wasn't anything they could do, "All be can do is do the best we can with what we've got."

Connor wasn't satisfied with his answer with his temper fuming, "It is not enough."

"Hm. It never is my friend," Barrett patted the Assassin's shoulder before he turned to follow his men.

With Barrett gone, Connor looked again at all of the corpses knowing that this was only the beginning. He couldn't let this get to him, but he had to hold onto his conscience for those he had ended. Although he did not kill them directly, he felt the guilt and the responsibility. And yet, this was only the beginning of a long war, a war he will have to take part in if he was to defeat the Templars and protect his people from harm.

Connor turned around to find the horse he had ridden during the battle, so he could return back to the Homestead. In the back of his mind, he felt another presence watching over him. The presence was familiar to him, and he had not felt it for four years. His head turned and looked around the treetops and houses to find this other set of eyes. When he looked up towards the left he saw something swaying in the breeze. It wasn't a bird, but it was anchored to a branch and he could feel its eyes looking down on him. The sun's rays kept him from making out this mystery figure and only saw it as a black silhouette.

Eventually the sun's rays became too much; Connor had no choice but to look away and rub his eyes. When he looked back, the figure was gone leaving no trace. Even if it was for a second, the silhouette's shape became buried in his mind. Despite his desire to think it was what he wanted it to be, he shook his head and continued back into Concord.

_Impossible. In could not be her. _Connor told himself.

A smile lingered on Isla's lips as she watched Connor walk back into Concord. She longed to run up to him. She longed to jump into the fray and assist him during the fight, but there was no need. The boy she once knew was now a man, and from the distance and the role she watched him play, she knew her best friend had changed. She knew this from his letters, but this was her first time seeing it for herself.

As she watched him ride out of town on his horse, she smiled again, "Avete fatto molto bene Assassino."

* * *

**I know they could have met up again, but I promise when the reunite, it will be great. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and had a fun time reading. R&R Plz.**

**IN THE FUTURE CHAPTERS THERE WILL BE SEVERAL SIDE CHARACTERS. IF YOU HAVE AN IDEA FOR A NAME OF A CHARACTER OR HAVE AN OC THAT YOU MADE UP AND WANT HIM OR HER IN THE STORY, PM OR LEAVE A REVIEW SO I CAN PUT IN THEIR NAME :D**

"**Avete fatto molto bene Assassino." – Italian for "You have done very well Assassin."**


	9. Under the Shelling

**IN THE FUTURE CHAPTERS THERE WILL BE SEVERAL SIDE CHARACTERS. IF YOU HAVE AN IDEA FOR A NAME OF A CHARACTER OR HAVE AN OC THAT YOU MADE UP AND WANT HIM OR HER IN THE STORY, PM OR LEAVE A REVIEW SO I CAN PUT IN THEIR NAME :D**

JUNE 16, 1775 PHILADELPHIA, PA (THREE MONTHS LATER): UNDER THE SHELLING

* * *

"_Don't__ be dismayed by good-byes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again. And meeting again, after moments or lifetimes, is certain for those who are friends." __Richard Bach_

* * *

As Washington spoke to his fellow Patriots, his words were imbedded into their memory like an engraving into stone. When he spoke people listened, and among those was Connor. He was seated along side Samuel Adams with his eyes closed; taking in every word. From what he could tell, Washington seemed like an honest man, but there is always something underneath the surface.

During Washington's speech, Samuel leaned over to Connor though never taking eyes off the Commander in Chief. "Truly, there is no man better suited to the task," Samuel whispered below the speech.

Connor opened his eyes and was about to respond, but a familiar face interrupted with a sarcastic remark. "Really? I can think of several.

Connor's relaxed face turned enraged at the man's voice. He rose from his chair while growling, "Charles Lee," and walked over to face him. His wrist already began to flex in preparation to extend his hidden blade.

Charles Lee looked at Connor with a confused expression showing neither anger nor compassion. "Do I know you?" Lee asked perplexed.

"I would not expect you to remember!" Connor spat as his blood boiled. Of course Lee wouldn't remember a Native. Charles Lee saw them nothing more than just animals; people beneath him.

With his temper getting the best of him, Connor nearly lunged at Charles Lee had it not been for Samuel. He quickly grabbed Connor's elbows before he was able to do anything rash.

Samuel fought hard against Connor's strength before finally getting him to pull away to redirect him from the situation. "Come Connor - there's someone I want you to meet. Sorry to pull you away like that, but the last thing we need is the two of you coming to blows," Samuel said in a hushed tone.

Washington had just reached the end of his speech and was now nodding and shaking hands with the congressmen. Samuel pulled Connor by the arm up to Washington with just as another man left. "Connor, allow me to introduce you to our newly appointed Commander-in-Chief, GeorgeWashington," Samuel shook hands with him as he introduced the Commander to him.

"Ah! So you're the one who saved Samuel and John at Lexington," Washington realized.

Connor sighed inwardly from the unwanted praising, "It was the Patriots who did that, I merely lent support."

Washington chuckled and looked to Samuel who smiled. "As humble as he is brave. We could use more men like you, "Washington said as he shook Connor's hand. "I'm sorry, but if you'll excuse me - I should attend to Charles over there. He looks none too happy about being passed over for command. It was good to meet you Connor. Samuel," Washington nodded to them both before walking over to Charles Lee.

Connor scowled at Lee once more before looked back at Samuel. "Any word on Pitcairn?" Connor asked.

"Right now he's taken shelter in Boston, where he's guarded by a thousand Redcoats. The only way you're going to have a chance at him, is if we draw him out. Luckily, we're launching an offensive against the city in order to do just that. Israel Putnam has been given command of our forces," Samuel pulled a letter from his coat and handed it to Connor, "Present that to him and he'll provide whatever aid you'll require. You can find him at the encampmenton Bunker Hill."

With the letter tucked away in his robe, he turned back to Samuel. "You have my thanks," Connor thanked him. With one last nod, Connor exited the room while passing by Charles Lee once more. He turned the gaze of his eyes and gave him a look that could kill. Charles still looked confused at who Connor was, but it didn't stop Connor from showing his hatred.

After he shut the door behind him, Connor made his way down the hall not even noticing a figure leaning around the corner. "So you come to our city and not even stop to say hello? How rude of you!" A male voice said sarcastically. Connor turned around to face the source of the familiar voice. When he saw whom it was he smiled and approach his old friend.

"William!" Connor greeted him happily. Despite that he was just fuming with rage, he couldn't help but smile at seeing one of his teachers. William had aged since the last time they saw each other. If he remembered from Isla's letter, William turned thirty a few months ago. He looked a bit more mature and even more built. The two of them moved into one of the unoccupied rooms, so they could talk in peace.

William took Connor's hand with a firm shake, "It's good to see you Connor!"

"It is good to see you as well. Tell me, how are you fairing?"

"Very well. Between the recruits and our new home, everything is falling into place. And you?"

"Everything seems to be doing fine back home. With Johnson gone, my people are safe fore the moment," Connor folded his arms.

William nodded in agreement to please Connor for the moment. Like Achilles, William believed that protecting Connor's people is impossible. Ever since America was discovered, the Natives were in danger from the start. And now with the Natives supporting the British, it has become even harder of a task.

"How long has Charles Lee been here?" Connor questioned.

"He arrived two days ago. My recruits have been keeping tabs on him ever since he stepped foot in Philadelphia and so far he hasn't done anything suspicious. Not yet at least," William said.

"I assumed as much. Is Isla with them?" The corner of Connor's lips began to curl up again at mentioned her. He thought he saw her at Concord months ago, and he hasn't gotten a single letter from her in months. In a way, he was actually worried.

"No actually, she should be in Massachusetts right about now. I gave her the freedom to look for Charles on her own," William started. Connor's eyes opened with surprise at hearing this. Here he was asking for her, and it turns out that she may be only hours from their home.

"I thought she would go to Boston first, but with those blockades outside the city, I think she'll have a hard time finding a lead," William added.

"Do you know where she is right now?" Connor urged William to go on.

William just sighed with a smirk, "I think I have an idea…"

* * *

Looking back, Isla had never been so nervous. She may have been more nervous during her first assassination or when she felt on the brink of death when a mercenary had defeated her when she was still an apprentice. But being back home at the homestead made her stomach turn upside down. She watched from distance, Achilles sitting outside watching the sun set over the horizon. His back was to her but she thought that he probably knew she was already here. After all, he is an assassin despite his age.

Caleb had left Isla for some privacy, leaving her alone to work up the courage. He thought that it was safe to return to Philadelphia for now to at least report to William.

Finally, Isla pulled down her hood and began to approach Achilles from behind. As she walked, she went over every possibility of something she could say. But when she was only a few feet away, and Achilles had turned around and looked at her with those wise eyes, she forgot everything. Her lips parted, but nothing came out the first try. With a deep sigh, she stood up straight and a smile to hide her fear. "I'm home," she said and the old man smiled.

"That you are," Achilles laughed, "You far more along than the last time I saw you."

"Uh- yeah, I-uh. Thank you Achilles," was the only thing Isla thought to say as she fiddled with her gloves.

Achilles chuckled again at her nervousness. With a wave of his hand, he beckoned her to sit down next to him. Isla walked around him and sat on the rocks. "Connor has been keeping me up to date through your letters. Though he may not admit it, he has been waiting for this day."

"I've missed you all, and it seemed like I missed a lot. I'm sorry I wasn't he for when he was inducted," she apologized.

"Pfft, there was no ceremony like yours. He simply earned the title and the robes. But enough of all that!" Achilles waved his hand, "What brings you all the way back home."

"William has given me permission to hunt for Charles on my own and to pick and choose my targets. So far, I decided to come to Massachusetts since our old unit was stationed here with Commander Davenport," Isla explained.

Achilles leaned on his hands and leaned in closer, "And you have located these targets."

"No," Isla shook her head, "With the blockades set up around Boston and with most of the citizens evacuated it's hard to find them. I was planning on contacting the courtesans I met back then to help me, but they left Boston."

Achilles let out a 'hmm' and looked back out at the water, "In time they will come in reach. For now, rest easy. Come with me." Achilles grabbed his cane and rose up. Isla followed him back into the manor though the back door and looked around in awe.

The manor must have finished its renovation since it was barely recognizable. Every inch of the house was newly furnished and covered with new paint and wallpaper. It no longer smelt of mold and water, but now new wood and scents of food pouring from the kitchen. As they walked up the stairs, the wood didn't cry out of old age and was polished. Even the door to her room was replaced with a new mahogany door with decorative carvings of oak leaves and a bird at the top that mirrored her bird charm. "Heh, Connor made an ordered for that," Achilles shook his head.

"Without your permission," Isla smiled.

"What other way is there for him," Achilles said as he dug into his pocket for the keys.

"Where is he anyway?" She asked.

"Most likely on his way back from Philadelphia, he went there with Sam Adam to meet the Commander in Chief," Achilles explained.

"Oh, I see," Isla said. She found it ironic that Connor was in Philadelphia while she arrived at the Homestead.

When Achilles pushed the door open, all Isla could do was stand there gaping like a fish. The whole room was fully furnished just like the rest of the house. The floor was mostly covered with a large earthy, floral rug over new wood floor. On top of it was a cream couch and a love seat angled with a small round table in between centered around the fireplace. In the back right corner was a canopy bed like Connor's but it was navy blue. Next to the bed were a vanity and a mannequin, most likely for her robes. And in the close right corner were two dressers for her clothes. In the back left corner was a desk and chair next to the window. In the close left corner were two bookshelves and a wooden trunk behind the couch.

Isla ventured around her refurbished room and explored as Achilles stood in the doorway. When Isla was done gaping at it all, she turned back to the old man. "Is this all mine?" She asked joyfully. Achilles opened his arm, gesturing it was all hers. "Wow, thank you!"

She flopped down on her new bed and sunk into the comforter. Achilles laughed and walked inside and looked over all the furniture. "We wanted to make sure you had a good room to return to. Think of it as birthday gift for all the birthdays we missed," Achilles leaned on his cane.

Isla used her elbows to sit up, "I'm sorry you had to go through all this trouble."

"It wasn't any trouble, we were going to renovate the manor anyway," Achilles said before shuffling back to the door. "Dinner should be on the table soon, and I expect you to inform me of your endeavors over dinner. So get clean," Achilles motioned to the dirt and sweat Isla was covered in from her way here.

With Achilles out of her room, Isla was able to get undressed and changed into her ordinary clothes of a shoulder less blouse and pants. She hanged her robes and corset on the mannequin; admiring their amazing design. Now that that she war out of her clothes and into something more light, she took the chance to look around her room some more.

The bookshelves were full of different kinds of books. Fiction, maps, empty journal with pages begging to be filled, and much more. The desk was already equipped with quills, paper, and ink along with a comfortable chair. It felt just like yesterday that Achilles took her into this room for the first time. When there was only a few couched covered with white sheets and dust. And it was that same day that she met Connor for the first time too. She remembered the awkward silences between them before they finally bridged the gap.

To her, Achilles hasn't changed a bit at all. Now she's worried about how Connor will be. In their letters, he still seemed the same. Serious and naïve, but at the same time a bit brooding. Deep down her greatest fear about seeing her best friend was that when she saw him, he wouldn't be the friend she left behind.

* * *

(THE NEXT DAY)

Having dinner with Achilles last night proved to be just the thing Isla needed. While they discussed several topics concerning the Templars, Isla's targets became the center of their conversation. Through the Boston recruits, Gerhard von Stantten had been staying on a British ship in Boston's harbor. He never leaves or shows himself to the people. Apparently he doesn't want anyone to know of his presence, for what reason, they don't really know. All Isla knew was that she had to strike now while the opportunity is in front of her.

When she made it to Boston, she did well to avoid the blockades that surrounded the city. Anything within or around Charlestown was completely destroyed. Most of the buildings had fallen apart and were set ablaze from the canon fire. Luckily most of the Red Coats were distracted with the Patriots, giving her more of an advantage. The stupid ones ventured away from their groups and were foolish enough to challenge Isla, waving their swords and bayonets. But she was determined. She wasn't going to let a mere soldier defeat her when she hasn't even reached her target.

Isla skidded to a stop when he reached the ship that kept bombarding Bunker Hill. She peaked from behind a chimney of a near by home that was out of range of the canons. The ship that Gerhard was seen on was right next to the active ship. Unlike the other one, the one Gerhard was staying on was vacant on the upper deck. She watched as a single Red Coat, a different man every time, would peak up from bellow deck. Isla lipped the numbers as she counted; about five minutes between every look out. From what she could tell, there was about one patrol bellow deck. She couldn't risk fighting them all, including Gerhard, in such a contained space.

She leaped from the rooftop, and landed safely in a wagon full of a hay bellow. When the coast was clear, Isla climbed out of the hay and sprinted to the upper deck of the ship. Two minutes until the next look out. Isla hid behind the mainmast and waited for the Red Coat with a spoke bomb in hand; ten seconds. Isla quickly flung the smoke bomb to the bow of the ship and readied her hidden gun. As soon the soldier peaked his head out, the spoke bomb wet off with a _'Boom'. _Just like she expected the soldier went over to investigate the mysterious smoke, turning his back. With a flick of her wrist, her hidden gun fired dropping the soldier with a cry. Many others ran to the upper deck, around eight of them to investigate. Isla acted fast, leaping through the hatch before pulling it shut and locking it tight.

The lower deck was almost empty; she could feel the presence of another life on board. She was being watched and she knew it too. Behind her, another pair of feet rushed her behind, but she quickly turned and avoided the bayonet. Her hand wrapped around the rifle and swung whoever held the opposite end and against the wall of the ship. Without even looking to see whom it was she turned the rifle around and aimed the bayonet at the throat, ready to run it though, but she halted.

He was no more than a boy. He wore the colors of the British, but his uniform was loose and coat sagged off his shoulders. When she looked at him, she saw eyes full of fear, the fear of death. His feet kept on pushing him back, trying to escape Isla and the weapon she held to his throat. Her knuckled tightened around the rifle and turned bloodshot.

_This is madness._

Slowly, Isla lowered the rifle and the boy slid down until he was sitting on the ground. When he was on the ground, she saw his fearful blue eyes look behind her. Through one of the canon hatches, she saw the tail of a coat and boots fly through and onto the docks. "Gerhard!" Isla yelled and threw the rifle to the ground. Why didn't she see it?! The boy was a distraction for the coward to get away.

Isla flung herself threw the same hatch and dive rolled onto the docks. Gerhard caught her sighs as he ran through the shelling of the other ship. Isla knew Gerhard was a well-trained soldier, and she didn't expect him to run. She followed from through the city, avoiding the debris and canon balls. Eventually Gerhard climbed up to the roof of a house with Isla following closely behind. When she reached the top Gerhard was waiting at the other end. There were no wires, no other roofs he could escape onto. Isla drew her sword and pointed the blade at the Templar. "There's no where to run Gerhard!" Isla shouted, "This ends here!"

The Hessian smirked before drawing his saber, "You're a fool for challenging me girl! A mistake you will pay for with your life." Gerhard was calm when he spoke, so sure he was going to win.

He lunged with great power and clashed swords with Isla, almost pushing her off the roof. She let out a grunt as she leaned forward and managed to push him back. Isla rushed him and swung her sword in attempt to slash at his chest, but Gerhard deflected it and swung his saber when Isla was wide open. The tip of the blade caught Isla's chin as she dodged to the side. Isla quickly ducked down and jumped upward to Gerhard's face. Her elbow was thrust into his eye making him stumble back. With him stunned she made another move and brought her sword down. To her surprise Gerhard caught it with his sword and the two were only a foot apart. Just like he attempted before to twirl her sword away, Isla saw the opening and struck. Just as he swung, she brought out her hidden blade and thrust it into the base of his throat.

Gerhard's face turned pale as he pushed himself off of the blade and fell to roof with his hat falling from his head. His body slid but he caught the tip of the roof and looked up at Isla who stood over him with blood dripping from her chin and onto her robes. Blood seeped from his lips and pressed his face into the roof. Isla kneeled down and watch as his life began to fade.

"Defeated by a woman, I am above this," he groaned.

Isla sighed at the man's pride before pushing him onto his back, "Enough! Where is Matthew Davenport!? Where is his daughter!?"

Gerhard chuckled through the blood, "You think I will betray my comrades simply because I was asked? Your kind truly is weak, not willing to take that extra step to gain what you want."

"That is what makes you all monsters! That extra step is what millions have suffered for," Isla countered.

"Now where is Davenport?" Isla demanded.

"Far away from your reach," Gerhard spat. With one last breath, his eyes rolled back into his head and his hands went limp.

Isla cursed heavily at reaching another dead end. She should have seen this coming. Gerhard would have never given his Masters' location, even on the brink of death.

Isla close his eyes and spoke in Italian, "La lealtà è essenziale per la vittoria, ma è necessario fare attenzione ai coloro che sono di buone intenzioni. Requiescat in pace." (1)

With a large boom, the roof Isla stood on began to collapse and catch flame. With a shriek she began to run down the roof the opposite edge of the rooftops. At the very end, her heart began to race as she saw the storm of flames racing towards her. After another rumble of canon balls, she was thrown from the tall building and began to plummet to the ground. Not willing to accept death so easily, she activated her hook blade and caught hold of one of the signs. However it did not saver her from falling. The metal hook bent and lost its hold on the sign sending Isla plummeting another story.

Isla didn't even have time, to brace herself. Her left ankle caught the fall and bent in an awkward position. This made her loose her balance and fall, banging her head on the street. Her vision began to see double as she desperately grasped her injured to her ankle.

However she was so absorbed in her pained ankle, she didn't even notice the brick was falling in her direction.

* * *

Connor thought that the British would at least try to keep most of Boston intact. When he returned to the city to silence the ship that kept on bombarding Bunker Hill, he could barley recognize it. Hundreds of Red Coats soaked the city with violence and they attacked the Patriots without mercy. As he ran through the city, his strides were far lunges to avoid getting hit. Wood chips and stone flew through the air and nicked his skin. But small nicks and cuts were the least of his worries. Though he was still running, he noticed several corpses of Red Coats appearing here and there. In the corner of his eye, he saw their wounds and took not that a regular Patriot could not inflict such a deadly blow.

When he reached the ship, it was not too hard to silence it. He didn't even bother with taking out the guards once he saw barrels of gunpowder on the upper deck. He took out his pistol and aimed for the barrels. With one shot, the whole upper and lower deck was set ablaze while killing the Regulars aboard the ship.

Working fast, Connor climbed to the top of the mast and hung the American flag. When his work aboard the ship was done he dove into the murky water bellow before swimming back to shore. The ship was still giving off a few canon balls, but with the fire spreading across the ship it would stop soon.

He thought his work was done and was about to return to Putnam, but he was wrong. At the top of one of the near by houses, he saw another Assassin to his surprise. Whoever it was wasn't one of his recruits and since their hood was up, but by the corset and figure it was defiantly a woman. He watched her sprint across the rooftops up until the very end where she was cornered by the oncoming flames. Without even knowing why, Connor began to run to the base of the house where the Assassin stood.

As he ran, he watched in horror as she was forced backwards and off the roof. Though he kept running his heart nearly stopped when she caught a ledge before finally falling to the ground. Whoever she was, she was too preoccupied and stunned to even notice that the wall of the building was collapsing. Connor's lungs burned as he quickened his pace towards the injured Assassin. When he reached her, he practically tackled her out of harms way. He brought her close to his chest as they both tumbled through the dirt, barely missing the collapsed wall.

Connor panted heavily as he propped himself up with his elbows. He looed over the pile of bricks and thought that if he was seconds away from being crushed with his fellow sister. "Ow," the girl groaned. Connor hadn't even noticed that he was practically lying on top of her.

"I am sorry for-," Connor began but stopped in midsentence when he saw the Assassin's face.

"Isla," Connor mouthed as he looked upon her face. For once in a long time, Connor was frozen with shock. Below him was his best friend, which he hasn't seen in over four years. More than anything, he wanted to see her again, but not under these circumstances. Her face had changed and was more mature and she was no longer the tiny little girl she used to be.

Connor panicked and stepped off of her to examine her better. Her chin was cut and had leaked down her neck and robes. She looked like she had fought through an entire army with all her small cuts and bruises. Isla wasn't even in it all the way and was just groaning and mumbling in another language. Her eyes were almost closed and unfocused as she drifted from consciousness, and that's when Connor finally noticed the welt forming on her head.

Not wanting her to fall asleep Connor cradled her upper body and began to slap her cheek gently. Isla's brows furrowed as she blinked widely and grunted again. Finally her ember eyes searched wildly before they landed on Connor's face. Both she and Connor started at each other in awe, not knowing what to say or do. After what seemed like hours, Isla finally opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. When she tried again, it came out as a shy whisper, "Connor?"

Connor swallowed deeply sending the lump in his throat down. All he could do is nod as Isla's eyes searched him. He couldn't even imagine what she was thinking. They had both changed greatly, to the point where they were awkward around each other like when they first met. But one thing didn't change.

Isla dug into her shirt and pulled out the necklace he had given her while aboard the Aquila. Connor traced the bird charm with his fingers and enclosed his hand around hers. His wish was finally a reality. Isla was home.

"It is good to see you again," Connor smiled.

* * *

**(1) La lealtà è essenziale per la vittoria, ma è necessario fare attenzione ai coloro che sono di buone intenzioni. ****Requiescat in pace. – Italian for "Loyalty is essential to victory, but you must take care to guard those who are of good intentions. Rest in peace."**


End file.
